The Darkest Hour
by Meg2
Summary: A sequel to Scenes from a Marriage 1 & 2 and the author's Dead Wrong/Dead Certain series. Readers are cautioned about intense content.
1. Chapter 1

A/N- The envisioning of this story actually came to me in a dream, in the summer of 2009, about two months after I'd published _Dead Wrong_, which I had thought at the time would be my very last SVM/E&S fic. This story, which may be a really hard one for some of my readers to read, just wouldn't leave me alone, and poured out onto the keyboard, almost as if it wrote itself. It was odd in that I went directly from _Dead Wrong_ (and the incomplete sketch that at that time was _Dead Certain_, the Eric POV for _Dead Wrong)_ to a point out on the plotline that was a full ten years later. I had envisioned certain things that had to have happened to get to this point (which is _still _not the end point in the series, dear reader) but I had yet to write those events, which largely occur in _Scenes from a Marriage_.

This story is going to take some getting used to on the part of the reader. A fair portion of it is written from the perspective of a third person omniscient narrator. You will see why as you read. But I'm aware that it's a real transition on the reader used to the first person narration so common in the UF/PR genre. Please just bear with me, and hopefully, the payoff will make it worth your time and trouble. And then there's the content itself, which I've referred to as having a root canal with no anesthesia. Just grit your way through it. And to reassure some of my readers, I'll say at the outset that Hunter knows his business. At the end of the journey (a story tentatively titled "Paradiso") we will arrive in a good place.

The playlist selections noted in brackets are available on the livejournal page, along with other info. The livejournal address is on my profile page.

The characters of the Southern Vampire Mysteries are the creation of Charlaine Harris. I hope she doesn't mind my playing with them for a while.

The reader needs to have read _Dead Wrong/Dead Certain_, _Snapshots, _and _Scenes from a Marriage 1 & 2_ to understand where we are, and… what it all means.

_Happy Birthday to Lani and to Nicki!_

**_For Mia, who repairs people for real  
_**

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**The Darkest Hour**

_It is real and not a dream_

_I'm in you and you're in me_

_It is time _

_To break the chains of life _

_If you follow you will see _

_What's beyond reality_

_-Enigma, from Beyond the Invisible_

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**I**

**Tuesday, December 17, 2019**

It was a day that started like any other day. I went into the office, went over the proposal for the installation of a brand new security system and extensive wards for Queen Maude, in Minneapolis, with Amelia. Maude was a personal friend of Pam's and we were putting extra care into the job. Before I went home we talked about plans for Bronwyn's birthday party, too, which was coming up on January 3rd. She was turning six. Homeschooled, she was a bright and beautiful, though often still rather too obviously blue-skinned, child. She had impressed me the previous week though, by holding a peaches and cream complexion glamour for more than an hour while we ate sashimi on the patio outside the new _Whole Foods _at the edge of the Quarter. She was learning to use chopsticks and had such dexterity for a child her age. And how she loved raw fish… With her teeth like little razors, she could go through a small fortune of it, too. Amelia was so proud of her. She was already reading at almost second grade level. She was even more accomplished at math and music. And Bert? How Bert doted on his daughter. She was a magical child in every sense. We were all besotted with her. She had even bewitched Pam, and that was really saying something, given how Pam had started out feeling about the whole thing of Amelia wanting a child. Bronwyn had a green thumb and Pam was teaching her about orchid cultivation. She also had a little garden at the back of the house and had recently even, in spite of my eye-rolling at the mere thought, planted what she was sure was a fairy ring. My "Let's hope not…" comment drew a hail of laughter from Bert.

I went back to the compound shortly before 5 pm to get ready to attend a City Council meeting with Pam, since Eric was meeting with his Area 3 Sheriff and several people who had traveled down with her to see him. Eric was already awake and mostly dressed, busy with email and just in general, preoccupied. He had a long night of meetings ahead of him. I tied his tie for him while we briefly discussed what to do for our tenth anniversary. He was distracted as he kissed me and went downstairs. Hunter was out of town, visiting his paternal cousins in Magnolia. He was on break from his first semester at Tulane. He wasn't due back home until Christmas Eve.

In total violation of winter fashion edicts, I changed into a cream-colored linen suit and added a blue scarf as I dressed to attend the meeting with Pam. I'd found the suit on sale in Bergdorf's on my most recent trip to New York, visiting with Ahmed and Nicu. Now that Ahmed had a live-in vampire boyfriend, my visits were more complicated. Jamie and Cadel went with me for this trip. Poor Jamie… When Noor and I had dragged him through Bendel's, Bergdorf's and Barney's in a single afternoon, with endless looking at sales racks on my part ("Me, pay full retail in a place like this? Are you _kidding_ me, Jamie? _Never!_"), I really thought I might have crossed a line. He'd asked me pointedly why I never shopped _at night_. Clearly, Cadel always got off easy in his mind.

I smiled looking at the suit. It was gorgeous. Such a flattering cut and I simply couldn't believe that I'd found a size 6 on sale, even though it was clearly out of season. I leaned in and looked at myself closely in the mirror. Still no need for any cosmetic surgery. It seemed as if Eric's plan of regular exposure to his blood was paying off in terms of my appearance. Between his blood and whatever Bert and Branwen had done with me in 2011, I really didn't look a day older than when we'd married ten years before according to Pam. Although, she playfully continued to assure me that as soon as I got tired of Eric, even if I was in my _fifties_, she'd be more than happy to… I sighed thinking about it. After a decade of living with her, Pam was still Pam and infinitely playful. Or maddening. She had recently called me, _in public_, her best friend. It only took fourteen years.

Still looking at my reflection, I pressed on my cheekbone gingerly. I'd gotten a pretty bad bruise the previous week training with Uri's replacement. Uri had finally retired from training at age 70, although we still kept in touch. Lev, who was my same age and who had recently left Mossad for consulting work with the FBI in the US, was really something. I was _afraid_ to do weapons training with him. And that was with knowing that I had a vampire who could heal me. This most recent hit was lobbed on me after I'd thought I'd cleverly dodged his attack. But no. Even though Eric had given me a bit of blood, which took care of the obvious bruising, I swore the bone was still tender. Lev told me Uri must have been taming it down with me or something. Maybe, in spite of my looks, I was getting old or slow. Or maybe he was right. Uri and I had known each other for more than a decade. Maybe he really felt bad hitting me and held back a bit. Lev, on the other hand, did _not_ feel bad. Except about the fact that I was 'so slow on my feet' that I was easily smacked. Next week we were supposedly working with knives. Maybe Pam was right and I was crazy. The idea of Lev with a knife, in the same room with me, was rather daunting.

I sighed as I stood back and turned back and forth. I loved this suit and I didn't care if it was winter. I couldn't believe the jacket fit so well. With the darted waist it actually flattered my figure. Sometimes I wanted Pam's figure instead. She looked so good in most things and it was so much easier for her to find things that fit.

I talked to Eric briefly before we left. He was pretty distracted, with meetings scheduled from 7 pm until well past 4 am, according to Stefan. He kissed me almost absentmindedly, but I could see him take note of the suit and it's nicely darted jacket which made my waist look so small considering the light color. I could see he liked it, even if he was too focused on going over his agenda with Stefan to comment at the moment. He got that look around his mouth that always conveyed his thoughts about how I looked. That look was enough for me to know that he thought it was really pretty on me. It still gave me a bit of a bounce going to these things to know that Eric liked how I looked when I was representing us.

As we drove to the City Council meeting we were aware of the usual car following us. It was old hat to us at that point, really for any of us living in the compound. Celebrities get trailed by paparazzi. Well-known vampires and their spouses get trailed by FotS/God's Light people or some other protest group. We ignored them. In the years following my aid in breaking up the God's Light terror plot that drew in some seven FBI and law enforcement personnel and hundreds of people in fifteen states, I'd earned the same hated status as the vampires with whom I lived. Maybe even more so, since I was a traitor to my race, according to some of the hate mail I'd received over the succeeding years. Since I had outed Norm Staunton and his cohorts in late 2011 I'd received quite a few death threats, which I took lightly but which Eric took very seriously. But things had seemed to settle down after a few years and, with time, even Eric began to act as if they were probably just empty threats. I was so relieved when the days of more cumbersome security were at an end. Out with Cadel or Pam alone was more than enough for me. Now there was only a larger presence at announced events.

Anyway, it was a night like so many others in my life. And it was a busy life, but relatively peaceful. I'd been keeping myself out of harm's way long enough now that it was becoming a habit. I hadn't been shot or kidnapped or even beaten (except by Uri or Lev) in years. Though I was still plagued with nightmares jarring my sleep, they remained manageable compared to those of a decade before. Years of no new trauma had helped to keep them more at bay. Frankly, I'd joked the previous week with Eric that I was getting mighty bored. He did not laugh. Pam, Cadel and Stefan didn't laugh either. Markus, who so seldom commented on much of anything, said my boredom looked good on me and even better on Eric. Of course we were alone when he said it. I didn't even bother trying to joke with Andor about it. According to Andor, I was trouble even when I was asleep.

The City Council meeting was long. When we got to the apportionment issue, I lined up to speak, to give our official view, with Pam's blessing. She hated this stuff and by now I was used to people looking at me, the vampire king's human wife, the supernatural rights squeaky wheel. I spoke and some of the friendlier council members smiled. I took my seat again and listened as the others waiting to speak spoke their piece. The meeting finally wound down around 9 pm. It had already been a long day for me. I was relieved to be done and wanted to go home and relax and look online for presents for Bronwyn's birthday with Pam. I wanted to get her a child's pair of red gardening clogs. They'd look cute with her coloring and be easy to find in the garden because of the bright color. She was very given to running around all over barefoot, much to Amelia's chagrin. The cute clogs seemed like a perfect solution.

In the crowded chamber, Pam and I stood in the slow moving line, waiting to exit. She didn't want to head back right away. We chatted about going to Starbucks so that I could get a hot tea and she could get a True Blood. I was tired but said sure, though I grumbled about the slow moving line. I didn't see him coming, or even hear his thoughts. I usually tried to tune out in crowds. And so, as I waited thinking about just getting outside and into the fresh air, I never saw my end coming, my epic fade to black…

**

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[_playlist: 1_]

He moved forward, past Councilman Saunders, appearing to be one of the Councilman's group. The blade hit her in the chest to the left of the sternum. As luck would have it, the thin stiletto blade passed right between ribs, slicing the aorta at a wide angle as it worked downward, just nicking cardiac muscle. It was a grievous wound. Pam literally tore his arm off and tossed him aside as she turned to see her crumble to the floor of the hall. The knife had been yanked free with his arm, and her blood spurted forth from the wound at an alarming rate. The cream linen suit was turning more and more crimson by the second, blood pooling around her on the floor. She gasped twice, eyes wide. The only word that escaped her lips before she seemed to lapse into unconsciousness after only seconds, was a faintly whispered,

"_Eric_…"

Hissing to keep everyone away, Pam dropped to her knees and tore into her wrist, pressed it to Sookie's lips, letting her blood flow into her gasping mouth, expecting something, _anything_ to improve. Pressing her hand over the wound to try to staunch the bleeding, she watched vigilantly, in case there were others beyond the screaming man. No one approached even though people encircled them, looking horrified at the scene. She called out for someone to call 911 and several people called out that they had already called. But as she turned back, she realized with shocked horror that Sookie had gone so still after only moments. Warm, soft, but so very still. The pool of blood soaking her suit, spreading on the floor seemed to have slowed and there was no more blood spurting from the wound under the pressure of her hand. She wasn't recovering. And there was so much blood everywhere, that sweet-scented blood that had been hers alone…

The only sound, other than shocked murmurs, were the screams of the man, his arm torn away at the shoulder. Still in shock, Pam slowly drew her almost totally healed wrist away from Sookie's lips and withdrew her hand from pressuring the wound on her chest. Her heart had stopped. She pressed again but there was nothing. The aquamarine eyes stared up at her, vacant. People stood around them, whispering all around them… Their hushed voices filled her ears.

"It's really Sookie Northman?"

"She's really nice. I met her once at a Newman School event. Her nephew was in the same class as my son. She's really a lovely person. This is just so horrible…"

"Can she survive losing that much blood?"

"Oh my God, it looks like he's killed her. She's gone all still."

"There's _so _much blood… Oh my…"

"When did they call 911? It's taking them so long and we're in the City Hall for pete's sake…"

"Who is the vampire lady, again? Shouldn't that heal her? _What_ is taking the paramedics so long?"

"That must have gone straight into her heart to have caused that kind of blood loss. I used to be a nurse. He got her right in the heart or one of the major arteries if she lost so much so fast… It's only minutes with that kind of injury. She's bled out with that volume lost. She's gone…"

"The vampire doesn't even seem to react with all that blood around. Wow…"

Seconds later the sound of sirens filled the air.

All these voices whispering around her, but no pulse, no breath. Pam looked down at the form that had been her closest friend in her existence and heard… silence. Felt… nothing… _nothing_… Her eyes filled with tears and still crouching, she sat back on her heels.

For several more minutes, Pam sat next to her, pink tears trailing down her face. She interlaced her fingers with Sookie's, which were growing cooler by the minute. Finally, a Were on the NOPD put his arm around her.

"Miss Ravenscroft, is it? You should have someone to assist you. Do you want us to call someone to come get you? Miss Ravenscroft? She's gone… you're going to need to move. Homicide needs to take over from here. Miss Ravenscroft?"

They literally had to pry her fingers away from her. She might be a vampire but clearly she was in shock. She still wouldn't move from her side and sat just staring at her, hissing if anyone tried to touch her. The Were tried to keep everyone back while they waited for assistance.

Cadel and Andor arrived and took in the shocking scene. Cadel's hand flew to his mouth as he took in the horror of it. So much blood… It was just so horrible. Andor surveyed the scene and instantly understood what he'd felt from Eric. She was lost to him.

They tried to help Pam up but she simply crumbled. Cadel picked her up and after taking a long, studied look at Sookie, carried Pam out to the car. Andor remained and spoke to the officers and several witnesses at the scene. He glanced over, jaw jutting forward, at the moaning man strapped onto the gurney nearby, handcuffed by his remaining wrist to an officer. The man who had murdered her in cold blood and was the source of Eric's future inconsolable depression. Of Pam's shock. Of all of their loss. The paramedics were applying a pressure bandage to him. He looked down again at her as the police photographers seemed to take endless photos and reminded himself of the AVL edicts about not going after humans. Because most assuredly, if he'd had _his_ way, he thought looking back over at the man... He watched as they finished photographing her, and the scene, and while they put her in the body bag and then wheeled her away.

An hour later, Eric sat in the great room that Sookie had renovated just last year, expanding the old sitting room area to make a larger space that was more comfortable for the larger number of vampires now living in the compound. He held Pam's bloodied hand. She still hadn't spoken since Cadel and Andor had brought her back to the compound. She hadn't changed out of her bloodied clothes. There was dried blood all over her knees and calves, on her jacket, skirt and hands. The finest spatters of blood scattered on her face and neck like little red freckles. It was odd to smell Sookie's blood all over someone else. It was surreal. She was here with them and… not. She was… gone.

Pam seemed numb. Vampires obviously couldn't really go into shock, but she looked to be a fair approximation of it.

"It wasn't your fault," Eric said finally. "Andor says that they said he seemed to be with the Councilman's group. Maybe he was a mole for the GL people and just seized the opportunity. Maybe he wasn't even really with Saunders's group and just took advantage of the situation. But it wasn't your fault, Pam. Even I would never have thought she would be attacked in such a setting. I didn't think to send Cadel with you both. No one even knew you both were attending in my place."

She turned to look at him mutely and started to cry again. Eric squeezed her hand.

He had risen early, had been so busy. He looked at the tie now draped over his bent thigh and stroked it. She had even tied the tie standing from behind him because he was so rushed and was typing away at email as they chatted about their anniversary. So busy. Too busy to even to turn around and look into those eyes… He remembered the warmth of her lips on his temple before he'd risen from his desk. He'd barely talked to her when she slipped in to verify one point for Pam before they left for the meeting. She'd looked so elegant in her light colored linen suit. It was new and she seemed as if she was so pleased with how she looked from the way she moved in it. He was busy and didn't mention it. Later, he'd thought. I'll tell her she looks beautiful later. And later? The shock, the sensation and then… nothing. _Nothing_. For the first time in fourteen years, no warmth, no vibrancy… there was suddenly just _nothing_. It wasn't like when she turned it off, which she hadn't even done in years at this point. Or when she ran away, when there had still been some mysterious connection. No, this was a different feeling. This was… complete absence.

He had excused himself and practically stumbled out of his meeting, had to sit in his office, absorbing the shock of what he thought had just happened. Andor was puzzled, concerned. It was a good ten minutes later when the police called. Andor and Cadel insisted they should go in case there was further trouble. They hoped it was a mistake. But that feeling of emptiness was not to be mistaken for anything other than what it was. She was… gone. The only woman that he had ever been in love with. A woman who had truly seen him as he was, loved him as he was. She had been murdered in cold blood and he had barely even spoken to or spent time with her the night she died. He felt a hollowness inside and all he could think was… she was gone.

He glanced at Pam. He thought back to their frustration years before, the shared and seemingly absurd attachment to the telepath. These fifteen years of knowing Sookie had been a great emotional investment for Pam. She really loved her, even if not as freely as he did, certainly as she had not loved any other human. Friend, sister. And she'd seen her struck down by a human, in a single blow, before she could stop him. In a manner that simply could not be remedied, according to what Andor had told him. The paramedic he'd spoken to had said that she had bled out in a matter of minutes and would likely have incurred serious brain damage from lack of oxygen had she even made it to the hospital for treatment.

He felt as if his heart twisted internally. How could he face going up to their rooms, with her scent everywhere? Her things everywhere. Their bed. It was empty. He was empty. Alone. So alone. He touched the tie draped across his thigh again. They had _murdered_ her. Because she believed that they all had rights. He felt a surge of hatred for the entire human race and then pushed it aside thinking of Hunter, even more human than she was… And how was he going to tell Hunter? He was distracted by a sob from Pam.

"It isn't your fault Pam. Better that you were with her than that she was alone. It isn't your fault."

White as a sheet, she turned to him.

"You don't understand. I think I've done something terrible…"

**

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**

The four of them stood looking down at her, where she sat sprawled on the floor in front of the couch. He'd exited the room in such a rage he'd ripped the door and frame partially off the wall as he left. Growling, cursing in Norse, he'd stormed upstairs after pushing Markus out of his way, hard enough to leave dent in the wall.

Stefan knelt before her and held her hand then helped her back up to sitting on the couch. She was sobbing uncontrollably after trying to explain in a rather incoherent fashion. From a rapidly healing cut on her lip, it looked as if she had be slapped hard in the face with an open hand.

"You have to calm down. Pam, tell us again exactly how it happened and what you did. Try to calm down. Just replay it for us."

More coherently this time, she described the man, his appearing suddenly, the silver flash, grabbing his arm and pulling it away from her, pulling off the arm in the process, the knife flung away, the man flung away. Sookie went down. There was so much blood. She just wanted to stop her bleeding. Heal her just enough. She tore at her wrist and let the blood flow into her gasping mouth. She turned and confirmed that someone had called 911, then hissed at people to stay away, in case there were more. It seemed like it was just minutes later, when she looked back, that she realized she'd gone still. So still. She heard no further breath, no further pulse. She had put her hand over the wound but then realized as she focused her thoughts that there was no longer a heartbeat under it. It was over in minutes, mere minutes. The pool of blood was not spreading anymore on the floor. It had slowed… stopped. Her wrist had started to heal rapidly. And it was then… _then_, that she realized what she'd done.

Andor smile broadly.

"By Freyja… She's _done_ it! We have to get her out of the morgue and away from the coroner as soon as possible. Stefan, we need Bennett to call the coroner and tell him we're claiming the body back," said Andor. "_Immediately_. No cutting into her the way they do. This was so well done, Pam!"

Stefan looked up at Andor, uncertain he concurred quite to that extent. He turned back to Pam.

"Pam, are you sure? Was she still breathing when you started to give her your blood?" Stefan asked in a calm voice. "Do you remember? Focus on remembering. Did she still breathe? She lost the blood so fast. You felt her heart beat under your hand?"

With tears streaking her face, she squeezed Stefan's hand and nodded mutely, then let out a sob.

Cadel just shook his head and said "Bloody hell… She's going to think Eric had a hand in it, like he'd told us to do it if something happened to her. That's why he's so angry. She's going to think he lied to her. That _we all _lied to her."

Andor puffed out a twisted smile. "This is a gift. A _gift_! It's a fine thing however it's been done. It's the best thing that could have happened. Can you imagine what he'd be like if she'd died for good? He's all agitated and angry now, but you have not seen him when he is really depressed. He's absolutely _impossible_. And he could go on for decades like that. Maybe longer. He thinks she's 'irreplaceable'. He actually told me that once, right before he slammed me into a wall when I asked why he was going to Virginia for a human. And he's so much worse about her now. I've never seen him so attached to anyone. No, she'll get over it. We got over it and so will she. I've told Eric for years that it would work if she was turned. I even _suggested_ that Pam should turn her, back before they were married. She'll forgive him. And Pam. She loves him and she'll definitely get over it. And at least the way it's finally happened she can't blame anyone other than the man who stabbed her. She had a nice long human life for one of our kind. And she is still looking young and beautiful, so the timing was still good. It is the best possible thing that could have happened!"

Cadel looked at him and shook his head in open disgust.

"Andor, sometimes I swear I think you were left behind in the Middle Ages. She didn't _want_ to be turned. What do you _not_ understand here? We don't turn people who don't want to be turned. It's a bloody federal law here. It's the official AVL policy. It is _Eric's_ policy. And Pamela's gone and turned his bloody _wife_. Are you _thick_?"

Markus stood silently a little behind Andor and made eye contact with Cadel. The issue was obviously something of a sore point for Andor was the warning in Markus's eyes. Andor looked at Cadel and said,

"What are you saying, Cadel? You've always liked her so much, were so attached to her yourself. We _all _were attached to her. How can you _not_ want her turned? Do you prefer her murdered and gone? I'm sorry if she has died but she is still going to be with us and if all of us standing here were _really_ honest, we'd admit that we are not sorry at all if she is turned. You're the one always saying she's 'so grand'. Going on and on about how Eric just has a talent when it comes to finding fiery women. How can this not be a gift, Cadel?"

"A gift to fucking _whom_, Andor? Surely not to _her_ if it's not what she wanted! Bloody hell! She's not a car or an interesting book or a pretty figurine. I like her immensely. And I like her enough to respect her choices, just like Eric did. I'm assuming that Pamela made a genuine mistake. But a mistake is a mistake and you ought to think about what it felt like to have your entire life and death ripped out of your hands and put into someone else's, you bloody, fucking arse! She isn't a _gift_ to Eric. She was a person. And from her perspective, she'll think she trusted us, _trusted Eric_ and that her trust has been betrayed. How can you not understand why Eric is even _more_ upset now? How thick are you? Pamela stole her death from her. And she may well want it back. Do you get it at all? Do you have any concept at all of how stubborn she is? She liked her freedom and having her choices. A decade on and you still don't have a clue about the woman do you? It's the makings of a fucking disaster, this is."

Andor jutted out his chin and said, "I think there is rather a difference between what happened to us and what has happened to her, Cadel. Are you actually comparing Pam… _Pam,_ to our sire? Her best friend turned her and you're comparing that to what Ocella did? Pam has not stolen anything. She has given her, and Eric, a gift, and both of them will have to put it in better perspective. If she _really_ loves him then she'll just get used to it, won't she, Cadel? If we got used to it under duress, I'm sure she can get used to it living as we do here. I've had a problem with her not wanting to be turned from the very beginning. Why do that to Eric? So this is the chance to set things right. She loves him, and she'll get over it. She'll forgive him and all of us, including Pam. Pam _saved_ her, so she can have more time with those she _says_ she loves. A lot more time. She should be grateful. Why don't you try to be happy for Eric? It plays much better from that angle."

Cadel leaned in closer to Andor and growled,

"The problem is that it wasn't _Pamela's_ choice to make Andor! It wasn't Eric's, either. She made her choice. It was _ignored_."

"I'm continuing to think of it as a gift. To _everyone involved_, whether she realizes it right away or not, Cadel," said Andor with a steely calm as he stared down at Cadel.

Pam spoke up in a voice raspy from her crying, "I didn't ignore her choice. I didn't know… I didn't _know_ she was dying. It was all so fast and there were so many people around. I was afraid there were others and I just wanted her to stop bleeding. I didn't mean to do it. I've never turned anyone at all! I've never even seen someone turned. I didn't stop to think. I just wanted to buy her time to get to the hospital. I've never even seen anyone human stabbed like that. How could I know? Maybe I didn't… maybe I didn't even _want_ to feel it if she was dying. I just wanted to stop it… There was so much blood but… I didn't think she would die… I didn't _want_ her to die…" Her voice trailed off and she began sobbing again.

Cadel sat down next to her and put his arm around her shoulders. It was clearly a genuine mistake. Pam prided herself on _not_ making mistakes. Stefan shook his head as he reached out and stroked Pam's hair. He and Cadel met eyes. For a decade Sookie had lived among them feeling safe, with the clear idea that everyone knew she did not wish to be turned. And now… Cadel looked away with a heavy sigh, resting his face in his hand, shaking his head. A bad business, seemed to be his take on the situation.

Stefan, his hand still on Pam's head as she cried, stroking through her hair, sighed too. Well, choice or not, mistake or not, the thing was done. And it was going to be up to Eric and Pam to decide what they were going to do. Pam was clearly in no shape to decide much currently, however. Eric was not even clearly thinking yet about getting her back. If the second was too shaken up to take charge then it fell to him to do so. Andor was right. They'd have to move quickly to avoid the coroner starting a formal autopsy.

"Pam is clearly unwell, so I'm taking point. I'll call Bennett and make the arrangements. Cadel take Pam up to her room and sit with her while she gets cleaned up. Markus, try to find Eric and just keep an eye on him from a distance since he's likely to be so… distracted. Andor, just tell anyone still here that the rest of the night is totally canceled. That idiot from Monroe was still lingering out there as if he thinks Eric's not going to be much bothered that his human got murdered and is still going to be in the mood to discuss loans. You can tell him not to expect to come back for several months. He's going to have a hard time getting an appointment out of me. And you need to stop being so cheerful about the situation. It's inappropriate. If you can't control yourself on the issue then stay away from Eric."

Andor crossed his arms and glared at him. _Stefan_ was telling _him_ how to handle things with _Eric_? His being in charge was little better than Pam being in charge in his mind. A decade ago it had been mystifying to him that Eric had put the two of them, so young, in the positions that he had. The 'polished, front end of the business'…? Admittedly it had worked out fairly well. But now Stefan was going to try to tell him how to deal with Eric? The very idea rankled. However, since Pam was busy wasting energy on what was ultimately good fortune, so be it. And Cadel? What was wrong with Cadel that he didn't see this as the opportunity to put things as they should be? Who in their right mind would prefer her gone versus turned, he wondered? They could think whatever they wanted but he was giving Eric a night or less to come to the conclusion that his child had done him an incredible favor. So much drama over _good_ fortune…

After a preceding roar of anger that echoed through the building, a heavy thud reverberated upstairs. The five of them, even Pam, who cringed in Cadel's arms, looked up at the ceiling. Stefan waved them all off and drew out his cell phone and pushed Bennett's number on his speed dial. After a moment he said,

"Bennett? Yes, yes… it's quite horrible. Actually, I have an extremely urgent matter directly related to her. There's… an unforeseen complication. Please understand this is a matter of _utmost_ discretion. I need her back as soon as possible. I need you to call the coroner… No, Bennett, you don't understand…" he walked out of the room as he spoke.

Two hours later Eric barged into Pam's rooms. Stefan and Cadel were sitting with her. She had finally stopped crying. Eric glowered angrily at her, fangs down.

"I still just cannot fathom how you could be so inept. I simply cannot _fathom_ it! _You_, of all people! And I'm telling you right now, you are telling her it was all you, your fucking stupidity and that I had _nothing_ to do with it! Did you know that I promised her that if anyone turned her that I'd kill them? Did you know that? So you better tell her it was you before she even sees me, Pam, so you don't make even _more_ of a liar out of me in her eyes. How could you not realize that she was dying? I can't even conceive of it! If she blames me for this, I will _never_ forgive you. She trusted you. She trusted _ME!_" he raged.

She let out an anguished cry that was almost like an injured animal.

"I loved her, Eric! _I loved her._ I wanted to protect her, to _save_ her…" she descended back into tears all over again. Cadel put his arm around her, protectively, looking guardedly at Eric, who looked as if he was barely containing himself.

"Do you have _any_ idea of how hard it was to get her to trust me? You have unmade fifteen _years_ for me if she is turned! She loved us, _trusted_ us. And you have handed her the one thing, the _only_ thing that she feared! You have no idea what you have done!" He pointed at her and said in a threatening tone, "You had better hope that she is not turned because I'm telling you right now, if she blames _me_ for your stupidity…"

Pam cowered and tried to slip off the couch, as if to fall to her knees in front of him, but Cadel held firmly her in place.

Simultaneously, Stefan rose swiftly and cutting him off, spoke to Eric in Swedish as he tried to turn Eric away from Pam.

"Enough of this, Eric. You have clearly decided to keep her, so you and Pam have to stop arguing about it. You have to stop it! You can't expect Sookie to survive this kind of fighting between the two of you when she is new. If the two of you are at odds over it, it will tear her apart. What chance do you have of…"

_Decided to keep her!?_ Almost wild-eyed, Eric turned on him and grabbed him by the throat and held him off the ground while Stefan struggled and grabbed at Eric's forearm. Cadel instantly put himself in front of Pam.

"Eric! Let Stefan go. He's not the reason you're upset," Cadel hissed. "You're upset because she was murdered. Put him down. Eric! Put him _down_!"

"_Decision_? I have about as little a choice in the matter as she has had! How can I _not_ keep her? Working out well? Fucking hell! She may never forgive me. _NEVER! _That would be even _worse_ than losing her. So don't you tell me what to do, you fucking bastards…_"_

He threw Stefan all the way across the room into the beveled mirror on Pam's wardrobe. He wheeled around to look at Cadel who stood in front of Pam.

"What the fuck are you about? _Stefan?_ You're tossing around _Stefan_, of all people? Get out, before you do something else you're going to regret," Cadel snarled at him. "Bloody hell, I don't care how upset you are! You want to fight, go after the bastard that murdered your bloody wife. Leave Pamela and Stefan alone."

Eric took a swing at him but Cadel easily dodged him, even while pulling Pam with him, behind his back. Cadel's entire face had changed, as his eyes glowed red hot and fangs were down.

"If you want to destroy your entire regime with your anger, it's your business, brother. But you're not getting a hand on her, or Stefan again, while I'm in the room. Go hit something your own age. Go fight with Andor, who's practically celebrating your good fortune at your wife's being turned, instead beating on those who might actually understand your ambivalence on the matter. But hear this: _This was your onetime pass, Eric._ The next time I see you treating Stefan badly, I leave and I'll get him to go with me and maybe we'll even take Pamela with us for good measure. Stefan had quite enough of that with our sire and I'll not stand by and see _you_ harm him because of some fit of misplaced temper. And you're not hurting her, either. Strike her again, and you'll be sorry you ever laid eyes on me. Let's each of us remember who we're dealing with and where we've been. You may get a hand on me but you'll be sorry you did when you do. Just you remember what you've seen me do in your defense and reckon on it for _Stefan's_ in future. You don't want to fight me over the wrong business, either Stefan, or over your hitting a _woman_ who's almost a thousand years younger than you are and a foot shorter_,_" he snarled, eyes glowing. With real menace he stepped closer and growled, "So leave us alone and get the bloody fuck out of her rooms!"

At the mention of their sire, some of the anger had already drained from Eric's face. He glanced back at Stefan, who had risen off the floor and was bleeding, covered in shards of glass. Stefan looked at him in shock. Eric stared back at him for a moment and then without another word, stormed out of the room.

"Bloody hell," said Cadel in a low tone. "I didn't sign up for this and neither did either of you."

Cadel let go of Pam and walked over to Stefan. The cuts from the broken glass were already healing rapidly. Stefan shook himself off and picked a shard of broken glass out of his arm. Cadel picked several pieces off of the hard to reach areas on his back while cursing in Welsh. Then he drew out his cell phone and called Andor.

"Listen, Andor, you better watch yourself. I've seen Eric angry but never like this. Not in the entire time I've known him, not even with that idiot Nevada guy who said they'd find her and kill her. Yeah well, he just threw Stefan into a mirror merely for telling him he had to stop going after Pamela. Yes, _that_ Stefan, moron! _What?_ Don't be such a wanker, Andor. I'm quite sure he could toss you anywhere he had a mind to with the frame of mind he's in. He's only about a million times faster than you are as a starting point. So why don't you just stay out of his way and keep your bloody thoughts to yourself. And keep an eye open for Bennett because he told Stefan he was on his way with her." Andor started to talk back to him so he hung up on him.

He turned back to Stefan, who now was leaning over Pam, resting his cheek on her head, eyes closed.

Stefan straightened and looked at him. In German he said,

"Thank you for protecting her." His eyes looked bright. He could hardly even speak. He guided her to the couch so she could sit.

"If worse comes to worse, we'll leave with her. Don't worry. I'll go get someone to clean this up. Stay with her. Hopefully, he'll think about it and get a grip on it. If he doesn't, we'll leave. Pamela has friends in Minnesota, right? We'll find something there or we'll go back to Europe. I've got plenty of connections still in Munich. It may not be so grand, but it will definitely be safer than dealing with this business."

Stefan just nodded, hissing as he drew out another shard of glass, this from the back of his leg, and Cadel left the room.

After getting the remaining larger pieces off himself, Stefan knelt down and studied Pam's face, which was just ashen. She was staring at the floor.

"Are you alright?" he asked softly, brushing some stray hair back behind her ear. She didn't respond. He glanced around the room, which was now a mess with all the shattered glass. "Pam, I really don't think you should be alone. You can stay with me today. It's a mess in here anyway. You'll feel better when you've rested. We can talk about what you'll tell her. You have a few nights to try to figure out what will help her. You and Eric will be able to help her understand, to accept it."

He stood again and brushed off the remaining glass fragments, shaking his hand to dislodge the few that stuck into his palm as he did so. He looked down at Pam. How bad must it be if she was letting him, and even letting _Cadel_ comfort her? She had been so afraid of Eric. Really Cadel ought to remember better. Eric's temper, when he finally lost it, had always been so very bad. And this was temper fueled by loss. He could remember Andor's telling him about the rare occasions when Eric had really just lost it. Or even just Cadel's account of the Nevada vampire's demise at the outset of their takeover because of his ill-timed threats to go after Sookie. He glanced away remembering his own losses and realized that he could understand much of Eric's response.

"Why don't you come rest in my rooms. Come on," he said offering her his left hand. "I'll need to change, as it is."

She didn't even respond. Finally, he tried to pull her off the couch but she was practically limp. He picked her up.

"We have a while before dawn. I'll change and then let's go downstairs and get you blood. We both should feed. You'll feel better afterwards."

In the hall he encountered Cadel carrying the bag.

"Is Pamela alright, UB?" asked Cadel, sounding concerned. "He didn't come _back_, did he?"

"No, no… I think she's sort of in shock. I'm just going to have her stay with me." Cadel gave him a wry look at that idea, but said nothing. "I need to change, then we'll go down and feed. So… that's her?" Stefan said, nodding his head toward the body bag.

"Yeah, and I sent Markus back with Bennett to get the coroner's initial death certificate to be on the safe side. Since Ludwig says she will examine her tomorrow, all the paperwork will be in order. I've never seen Markus so glad to be sent out. Now Andor is with Eric and I'm sure that's going to go _so_ well," said Cadel snidely. "Where should we put her? I just can't see putting her in a coffin, Stefan. I'm afraid it would frighten her terribly when she rises. But Eric clearly doesn't want her thinking this was his idea, so their rooms won't be a plan. I'll not keep her with me, that's for sure."

Stefan thought for a moment and then said,

"We can put her in Pam's bed, since Pam will stay with me. The room will be cleaned shortly, right? Just put her the bed and we'll deal with cleaning her up before dawn. I'll help Pam do it." He paused for a moment and said to Cadel, nodding at the body bag, "Have you looked at her? It is true she's turned?"

Cadel looked down with a grimace and shook his head.

"I didn't look at her, no. But…" he demonstrated how flexible the bag was. "More than seven hours and no rigor. She's definitely turned. I've only turned one myself. She was buried right away and I never saw the body in the hours after I'd given her my blood. I'd had to leave quickly. But I saw someone who'd been turned in Munich about fifteen years back, right after the Revelation. He never went stiff. Look at her…" he bent the leg portion of the bag at the knees almost all the way back to the thigh.

Stefan looked somewhat stunned but for a different reason.

"_You_ turned someone, Cadge? _When?_ You never told me that… When? Who?"

Cadel made a face and looked away as he tightened his grip on the body bag ever so slightly. She'd been the only one he'd told here. He'd never even told his best friend about the bad end to the relationship with little Maggie MacLaren. He glanced back at Stefan. Why'd I even mention it now, he thought to himself?

"1796. You remember the girl, the girl I liked in Glasgow?"

Recognition dawned on Stefan's face.

"The redhead? The one whose lock of hair you had? Maggie something? You _turned_ her? What happened to her, then? I saw that lock of hair in the 1860's. I thought you were just reminiscing! What happened to her?"

"Yeah… Look, I'll tell you about that some other time but it's neither here nor there right now. Point is, the one I saw turned in Munich fifteen years ago never went stiff and Sookie isn't stiff, which to my mind means Pamela here has definitely gone and turned her."

Pam didn't even react to the words of confirmation.

"Well, leave her in there and I'll try to get Pam in better shape so we can clean her up," said Stefan quietly.

"I'd offer to help, but really, Stefan, I just don't think I can see her like this. I have real qualms about what we do from here, you know? She had very definite wishes about things. And the way Eric is acting on top of it… I'm having problems with the whole business." He was still thinking about whether they should just clear out and have done.

"We have to try, Cadge. You always want to leave off things too easily. We have to stay and we have to try. Pam can't leave now anyway, because she has to take care of Sookie. Like it or not, it's her responsibility. Besides, Sookie's _ours_. All of ours, and we have to try to get this to work. For Eric, for Pam, and for Sookie herself." He hesitated, then said quietly, "It makes me remember Annegret. Grief makes you behave in ways that..." He sighed heavily, looking as if lost in his memories. Then he snapped back to the present. "With Eric... This is just his grief, Cadge. I can forgive him for it. We all know that she's died because of what she did for all of us. So we stay and try to make things right. We cannot let a pack of humans and Pam's mistake break what we have built here. It would be the very antithesis of what Sookie would want or believe in, no matter what the outcome of this is for her," he said putting a hand on the body bag. "We should do what she'd want, which is stick with Eric and make the best."

"I won't stand for his mistreating you, Stefan. Or Pamela. I'll live on the street again before I'd let anyone treat me or you that way. And don't even get me started on _her_. I can't believe he struck her. I'd never have believed it if I hadn't seen that he had with my own eyes."

"He'll calm down. Andor will get him to calm down. And he felt bad, Cadel. Whether he says it or not, he felt bad about what he did with me and I'm sure the same with Pam. You could see it in his face."

Cadel frowned, but said no more. He'd had his fill of people feeling bad later long ago. It was no excuse after the first time, so far as he was concerned.

An hour later Stefan had Pam back in the room, which had been cleaned up a fair amount. They unzipped the body bag and slipped her out onto extra sheets that he'd laid out on top of the bedspread. They used dressmaker shears to cut the remaining blood-saturated suit and underwear off of her. The coroner had thankfully not started any seriously invasive work before Bennett had recovered her. There would not be any sutures to remove or cut bones to bind. It looked as if the jacket had been cut open to photograph the chest wound. With a grimace, Stefan pulled out a disposable depth gauge that had been left in the wound to gauge the depth of the blade's fatal strike. Pam let out a brief sob watching him remove it. She was incredibly shaky as she used a lavender washcloth and water from a small basin to wash the blood away. It was almost hard to believe that she was the all-so-efficient and capable Pam. She cried the entire time as she bathed her and when she looked at the stab wound she was all but inconsolable, murmuring angrily that she wished she'd killed that man that had killed her poor, beautiful friend. No justice other than death was sufficient in her eyes at the moment and whereas Sookie's death had been swift, she murmured of a long and painful demise for her killer if she could have her way. Stefan sat off to the side, looking away. It was really horrible, what had happened to Sookie, he thought to himself. The thought that she was dead at the hands of some zealot was simply horrible. When Pam was finished, he helped her slip a nightgown on her and he lifted her while Pam pulled away the damp and soiled sheets.

Shortly afterwards, Eric entered the room, looking calmer than before. Andor, looking slightly less confident than he had earlier, hovered in the doorway with a very grim-looking Markus. Eric walked over to look at Sookie in the bed. He picked up her left hand and noted the arm bending at the elbow and the wrist and then the fingers. Definitely turned, his face seemed to say. He turned to Pam, who stood nearby with Stefan's hand on her shoulder, and, with a strained expression on his face, started to raise his hand from his side. But he quickly dropped it to his side again as she winced. Stefan pulled Pam to his chest and met Eric's eyes warily. He had just intended to put a hand on her shoulder after his long conversation with Andor. He shook his head. He would not strike her again. It was wrong to have struck her at all. It was, in fact, the first and only time he had ever struck her, a point about which he now felt painfully aware. He was angry at what had happened… the entire chain of events… but not at Pam. Pam had tried to help Sookie. Save her. She had failed, in a manner of speaking. But not… entirely. He glanced back at Sookie and then sat down on the edge of the bed, again picking up and holding her left hand, mumbling in Norse as he spun her wedding ring on her finger.

Taking advantage of his distraction, Stefan decided to get Pam out of the room. It would be dawn relatively soon, anyway. Better to go and rest.

"Good night, your Highness," said Stefan formally, bowing his head. He turned to leave, guiding Pam away in front of him.

"Don't call me that in private. I forbid it. I apologize, Stefan," Eric called after him in Swedish, without looking at him. "I am just so angry. She was _murdered_. Murdered because of her association with us and then turned against her wishes. In one night so much was lost. I do not want to lose her twice. I can barely even stand it once. But I am sorry for what I did to you. Sorry to have frightened you with Pam. Sorry for what I did to her. For making you remember the past. So sorry for… this," he said, gesturing with his hand still laced with hers. His voice just trailed off. "It is hard to know where to begin to fix things," he whispered, as if to himself.

Pressing Pam into Andor's arms, Stefan went back into the room, closing the door behind him.

"Eric, I do not agree with Andor's manner but I do agree with his assessment. She will adjust. Her end was abrupt and she had much still to live for. You, Pam, Hunter, Bronwyn, her brother, her nephews, all of us, all her friends, and her good works. What's done is done. _This_ is done and we cannot _un_do it so we must help her adjust to it. And if Pam is her sire… well, you know how close they were. She will trust that, if Pam tells her it was not your decree, it was truly inadvertent. A fortunate mistake. Fortunate for her, and most of all, for all of us. For Hunter, for Bronwyn."

"Hunter," murmured Eric to himself. "I do not even know what I will tell Hunter."

"Perhaps it is good that Hunter's away right now, so he won't see her right away. It might be too hard on him. But it obviously won't matter to Hunter at all if she is turned. Given the alternative, he will likely even be glad of it, Eric. Maybe if she sees that those around prefer it to losing her, it will make it easier for her to accept it herself. Perhaps it will not be as you think. Just as Andor says, she will adjust. Even if initially it is hard. We all did, so can she. The circumstances are totally different for her. She will be more sheltered even, than Pam was. Maybe we can have friends talk to her after she has risen. Just… to assure her that everyone is glad of having her with us, that her life will not change as much as she feared, in these times. She will be reassured by Amelia, Ahmed, her brother, right?"

When she rises… Feeding her… Eric cringed internally. How was this ever going to work? No matter what Stefan thought, he knew better. It was everything she _hadn't_ wanted. She was going to be so very angry. So very afraid. It was everything he had promised would not happen to her, even if it had come to pass by accident. But what could he do to make things different? His feelings were so conflicted on the matter he could hardly even think straight. He had already done enough to Stefan, and done enough to worry Cadel, from what he'd seen, however. Cadel could barely even make eye contact with him in the hallway, now. He had slapped Pam. He had harmed Stefan, made him remember his dark past. That alone was something that Cadel would not forget, protective as he was of Stefan. And to have hit a woman who was not even fighting? So he was mild in his reply.

"Yes, he said softly. "I'll call them." He paused and looked directly at him this time. "Again, I am sorry Stefan. Just go and take care of Pam. Seize the moment to do so."

Stefan nodded to him, left the room and closed the door behind him.

Eric sat on the bed looking at her. The anger, at Pam, at himself, at the man who stabbed her, briefly surged through him yet again. But it was quickly supplanted by his grief. Tears slowly streaked down his face as he raised her hands to his lips. Their tenth anniversary was in a little over a week. He had not gotten the chance even to order her gift as he had planned. He had been so busy. Too busy. Too busy and too distracted even to tell her she was beautiful. He couldn't even remember if he had told her in the past night that he loved her. It was absurd. Like something out of a bad novel. All the things that he would scoff at, of love and loss. Everything he had thought trite about love or relationships. It was all laid out in front of him. Why had he let them go without further protection to the meeting? How had his life, _her_ life with him, come apart this way?

But, now that he was alone, and seeing her in front of him, he had to face it. The honest truth was that, even if he had knocked Andor into the next room a short time ago for saying so, perhaps it _was_ a gift. For so long it had been exactly what he told himself he wanted even though it was what he had promised her wouldn't happen.

"Min älskade," he said sadly. "I am so sorry that it happened this way. That you had so little choice in the matter."

His eyes coursed over her. He looked at her hand in his, her fingers cool and pliable. He reached out and touched her cool and ashen face. His wife, his beautiful and now very undead wife… To whom he had promised himself for eternity, which was a very, very long time. _Forever yours_. A vow, made with their blood, to be given only with great gravity and which took on a wholly different meaning in the present context. She had been so apprehensive about the idea of ever being turned. He was sure part of the real issue was her fear that they would separate and that she would be left on her own, alone. Then again, though she might love quite a few vampires, she had certainly despised many aspects of their culture. Even more than the violence, the whole potential for loss of freedom and individuality, subjugation, forced subservience… there were so many things that were the very opposite of her nature. Thoughts, choices, trailed through his mind, glinting in the darkness he felt in his heart and mind.

If she were cremated now, or even just decapitated, it would settle it as she had wished it to be, he thought to himself.

_No._ He simply could not bring himself to do it. She was already turned, inadvertently and by someone she loved. It was outside any circumstance that he had sworn to. He agreed with Stefan's take, even if he worried that she would be angry with him. What was done was done. He could never bring himself to make another choice.

He drew out his phone and sent a brief text message to Jason simply stating the bare facts. She was dead but that she'd been inadvertently turned by Pam at death, that he would talk to Jason after sunset. Then he started through the contact list of her closest friends.

Ahmed's phone was always silent, and it went directly to a voicemail message that had classical music followed by that clipped and upper crust British voice. He sighed. He wondered how fast the news of her death had traveled. Still, he couldn't see leaving such information without preparing him.

"Ahmed, it's Eric. Please call me if you get the message before 8 am your time. Or after 6 pm my time. It's urgent."

He hung up. He scrolled on. Some instinct, based on something she had said several years back, made him skip Alla.

Instead, he dialed Amelia. It was picked up on the second ring, even though it was close to dawn.

He heard her say in the background, "Give it to me, Bertie…. Eric?"

"Yes."

"I still just can't believe it. We saw it on the 11 o'clock news…" She had been crying. He heard it in her voice even after all these hours. "I tried calling Pam but she doesn't answer. I even tried Cadel. No one answers. Pam was there with her, they said on the news?"

He lowered his head to his left hand and rubbed his temples. He shook it as her glanced over at her in the bed.

"You'll have to talk to Pam for the details. The real reason I'm calling you is to tell you that there has been a 'mistake', Amelia. Pam gave her blood as she was dying. She isn't gone. She is turned. I…" he shuddered. "She's going to be so angry…"

Amelia was in stunned silence on the other line. After a moment trying to absorb this information she asked in a gasp,

"Pam did _what?_"

"As she lay dying, Pam gave her blood. I guess…" he said, as he tried again to grasp it. "I guess she was just panicked although I have a hard time envisioning Pam panicked over anything. She didn't think about it carefully. She'd never turned anyone. She gave her blood thinking she could stop the bleeding. But they say she was stabbed in the heart and lost a large volume of blood very quickly. It was over too fast. We already have her back in the compound. She is here in front of me and it is obvious looking at her that she is turned. I'm assuming that you don't care if she's a vampire. But _she'll_ care. Would you come to talk to her? Help us? Because we're obviously very concerned about how she's going to… absorb this."

Amelia was just silent for a moment.

"I… well of course, I don't care if she's a vampire, Eric. Of _course_, I'll come see her as soon as you want me to. Is Pam… alright?"

He curled his lip slightly over his teeth. He could only hope that Sookie herself would exemplify the same degree of concern over Pam as everyone else was.

"Pam is as good as she can be, having betrayed Sookie's wishes, broken federal and state laws, the edicts of the American Vampire League and my express command as her king and sire. Sure, Pam is just _fine_. You talk to her later. You'll have to forgive me if I don't care about how Pam is doing right now. I'm sure you know, just as I do, that Sookie is _not_ going to be fine with this, Amelia."

"But it was really just a mistake? You said she died too fast for Pam to realize what she was risking?"

"Yes, as I understand it," Eric said with a tight voice. "Everyone seems to believe that it was a genuine mistake, however uncharacteristically inept it was."

Amelia was silent on the line for a moment or two, as if considering things.

"Well, I guess I think she'll forgive her, Eric. You know how they are. Maybe she can be made to see it was a genuine mistake on her part. They just always seemed to have a different set of rules for each other, didn't they? They were so close and I think Sookie knows in her heart that Pam would never deliberately do anything bad to her. I mean Sookie can't really blame you? It's not like you told Pam or any of them to do it if something happened to her, right?"

"No," he said firmly. "My wishes on the matter had been made very clear."

"Well, you say it happened very fast. So maybe it will be okay. Maybe Pam was the one person who could turn her that she would forgive…" her voice trailed off. "She has a lot of reasons to keep going, with you and Hunter and… even Bronwyn, right? And Pam and Cadel. And… maybe it's wrong of me, or selfish of me, but really… I'm _glad_. I'm glad those bastards couldn't do away with her. I'm glad if she's turned instead of gone. I'm glad for all of us."

He could hardly control the ripple of pleasure he felt at her words. Amelia was glad. Andor was glad. And he himself… Steady, he told himself. Steady. He had to temper his thoughts… He had to remember what _her_ wishes had been and not his, or anyone else's. Even though he was making a conscious decision that appeared not to follow them. And there was the all too difficult matter of how Sookie herself would see things.

Bertram said something in the background. Amelia asked,

"I know… " she murmured in the background. "Look, I really don't mean to be in your business, Eric and I'm not trying to upset you any more than you already are. But we'd even wondered if she really _could_ die without turning, anyway. The feel of her, just within the past year… Bert felt this change in her energy… we'd talked about it privately. There was just a change in her after that car accident she had last year, when that guy broadsided her. We could really tell she'd had a _lot_ more of your blood. She was starting to have this whole otherworldly aura that even _I _could feel. She never stopped glowing after that accident according to Bert. And so, it kind of made us wonder. Maybe she couldn't permanently die from such a thing? Maybe this isn't anyone's fault at all? She used to talk about worrying that she'd just turn because of having had so much blood. You know, like years ago. Are you sure it was even Pam's doing that she turned?"

"Yes, Amelia, I'm sure it was Pam's doing. She had to have blood at the moment of death. That's just the way it works. All the rest is wives' tales. Unless you're dying and ingest vampire blood, you are _not_ going to turn. It's a possibility if you are injured and ingest a very large amount of blood but even then the sire should feel it happening. This was too fast and she died too quickly and Pam is… inexperienced. She had poor judgment, having never turned anyone in the past."

Amelia was silent for a moment.

"Well... Whatever. None of that matters, anyway. What's done is done. As soon as she rises and you guys think it's okay, sure I'll try to talk to her. And you're right. I don't even want to imagine how angry she's going to be, but I mean a large part of that has to just be her being murdered, right? I mean, if she's still with everyone that loves her, you tell me…? But you can count on me, on..." she paused, "on Bert, too. We'll do whatever we can to help. And as soon as she's calm enough, I'll even bring Bronwyn to see her. Actually, I'm glad to think that I won't have to tell Bronnie that Sookie's totally gone. She'd be so very sad at the thought. What about everybody else? Does Jamie know? He won't care at all. He's way past looking at vampires as a bad thing because of Cadel. He'll be supportive. Peggy once even told me she couldn't understand why Sookie _didn't_ want to be turned because she was so close to all of you. Did you call Ahmed?"

"Yes."

"Don't call Alla. Not yet. It will be harder for her from what Sookie's told me. Maybe Ahmed should tell her. And Hunter? What did Hunter say?"

Eric sighed, shaking his head, rocking her arm back and forth, his hand still holding hers.

"I have not called him yet. I do not believe that Cadel or Pam have either."

"Isn't he back in Magnolia already?"

"I did not know he had l_eft _Magnolia? Where has he been?"

"Sookie told me this afternoon that he and his cousins had been out hiking and camping in the Boston Mountains. She was fussing all about his hiking in snow because she didn't think he took the right boots. They were heading back tonight, well, I guess last night, now. You should really try to call him as soon as possible. I mean, you don't want him to find out on the news that she's dead, right? It was all over the local 11 o'clock news. I wouldn't even be surprised if it's on the national news already. You need to tell him as soon as possible. It's such a shocking thing, someone being murdered at a city meeting. And she's really kind of famous, what with all the AVL stuff and the congressional appearances, isn't she? If Hunter doesn't see it, someone in his Aunt's family will. You definitely don't want him finding out from them that she died and especially not that she's turned. Who knows what they'd say. They're so prejudiced, right?"

"What?"

"Well, look at his aunt and uncle's attitude about his living with all of you."

"_What?_ What are you talking about?"

"You remember… I think it was when he was 15 or 16 and she had that huge fight with them? She was really so offended by Claire. Remember?"

"Amelia, I know nothing of which you speak. She never told me anything about a problem with Hunter's aunt?"

Amelia drew a very sharp breath.

"Oh my gosh, then she's going to kill me for telling you, Eric... I didn't know she hadn't told you."

"What was the problem with Hunter's aunt?

"Well… About two and a half years ago, Sookie called his aunt and really had it out with her. She was _so_ upset. They were all put out that Hunter was calling you his uncle and Pam his aunt, and wow… I just really thought you knew. I mean, she called Remy in Oregon and pretty much read him the riot act. Because the aunt and uncle don't really know about Hunter's… skills, and all, and they were spreading hatred about supes in general but what they said out loud, to his face, when you have done so much to protect him, and to financially support them. She told Remy it was unconscionable. It all started because they made some remark about you, specifically, that really upset Hunter, and then they started in on Hadley getting turned and my gosh, when he told Sookie about it, she just about went ballistic, okay? She was _so_ incredibly angry, you have no idea. She called me in the middle of the morning to talk her down just so she could talk civilly to Remy and then to his sister Claire. I can't _believe_ she didn't tell you. I really don't know when I've seen her so mad. Even that afternoon, when she called Remy back from the office after talking to Claire, she was _still_ mad. She had a cocktail in the middle of the afternoon before picking Hunter up after school, Eric. When have you ever known her to have a drink like that? I really think it's the most upset I've ever seen her."

He looked at her lying there and wondered what things she had managed, even after all this time, to keep from him. Neither she, nor Hunter, had ever mentioned that his father's family had frowned on the association with him, or his living with any of the vampires here.

He was silent for several minutes and then said,

"I didn't know that she was still having to defend the association… She never spoke of it. I guess I'm… rather caught by surprise, Amelia."

"You really had _no_ idea, Eric? I mean, if it's any comfort in the present situation, she wouldn't let anyone say anything bad about vampires in general or specifically, any of you all, in her presence. I mean, she got into real _arguments _with people. Even at Hunter's school. Hunter told me that she'd gotten into an argument with one of his teachers and called him ignorant to his face and complained to the administration that he was poisoning students minds with lies because he said something about vampires being bloodthirsty or something to that effect. You could ask Hunter. I guess maybe they kind of agreed not to tell any of you about it or something? But, Hunter… You have to tell him as soon as possible before they do. His family on the dad's side is just horrible. He only goes because he gets along with his cousin Bobby so well, but you know Bobby is… well, Sookie says Bobby is gay and they're just ignoring it. But anyway, Hunter likes Bobby and says he's a great kid. It think that's why he still goes. Because otherwise Bobby wouldn't have family that's supportive of who he is. And Hunter knows what it's like to feel different. To not fit. Anyway, you have to call him."

He steeled himself. He simply had no idea how to tell Hunter.

"Of course you're right. I've put it off too long. In part, I wanted to be sure of what I was telling him. But sitting here, seeing her… It is obvious that she has turned. So he needs to know that. That she isn't really gone. I'll let you go and call him."

He ended the call and sat looking at her. Pam had told him several years before that she thought that Sookie had still endured a lot of censure for being with them. She had alluded, once or twice, early on in their marriage that the attitudes that people had about them as a couple were offensive to her. But he'd never really explored it further, had never asked what it was that she had found so offensive. And she had stopped mentioning the thoughts of the humans outside the compound. The idea that it was bad enough that she had actually had arguments with people about it- Hunter's family, his school and that she had never mentioned it- rather took him aback. She had never complained, he thought to himself. She had never said a word. He reflected on whether that was part of her resistance to being turned. But he dismissed the thought. She had been different her whole life and he had a hard time believing that being different but part of a larger group of different people was really a problem in her mind. No, he quickly returned to her fears, her insecurities about the relationship as a whole. He remembered an unguarded moment several years before in which she'd said something about Hunter being a reason for her to take care of herself, even if she was left on her own.

He stroked her smooth arm and kissed her hand again. Then he made the hardest call.

The phone rang six times. The call went to voice mail but then, as he started to leave the message, Hunter called back.

"Uncle Eric?" said the sleepy voice.

Hunter was eighteen. A history and philosophy major at Tulane, now. A polished young man with thoughts of going to law school. Eric had enjoyed having him with them for the past five years immensely. Although Remy had moved to Oregon, and Hunter still spent time with paternal family in Arkansas, he was effectively Sookie's son, although he still called her 'Aunt'.

"Hunter, I'm sorry to wake you," he said soberly.

"I actually just got to bed about half an hour ago, to be honest. Wow… it _is_ late. Is everything…" suddenly he gasped and was silent for several seconds, breathing a bit heavily into the phone as if trying to catch his breath. He gasped again. "It is done, then…"

What an odd thing to say, thought Eric. Sookie had trained him to shut out the everyday world. He had learned to shut it out well. He only 'saw' when he wanted to see. She had wanted him to shield himself from the vagaries of what he saw because of the potential for his sight to affect his emotional stability. She had told Eric several years back that Bert had given her a lot of advice about dealing with Hunter's "gift". So he had not felt it, had not seen it, when it happened to her. That was, of course, a good thing. It would have horrified her to think that Hunter 'saw' her die. Still it sounded, thought Eric, like a suspiciously odd thing to say. _It is done_?

After an eerily long silence, Hunter said quietly,

"Is Aunt Pam okay?"

"Yes," said Eric, laconically.

Hunter was silent on the line for a long time. Then, finally,

"Uncle Eric… I… um…"

"You are not even surprised, Hunter. It almost sounds as if you knew."

Hunter was silent on the other end.

Eric was now caught completely off guard. He _knew_. Hunter had _known _this would happen to her? He had the briefest flicker of hope.

"Did _she_ know?" he asked.

After a long silence, Hunter said quietly,

"No. I never told her. It was not something that could be told. To either of you. To anyone, really. I saw it long ago. I saw it after she was involved in the undercover thing in Lafayette, with the terror plot. That she would be… changed. I didn't know for sure _when_ it would happen, but I knew it would. I put it out of my mind. But… I knew."

Eric sat looking at her, gnashing his teeth and fighting the anger he felt surging back up and trying to deal with his utter astonishment.

"So you're telling me that you knew she would be _murdered_ and you said _nothing?!_ How can this be, Hunter? _How!?_ We had an _agreement_, you and I._"_

Hunter hesitated in his reply, as if choosing words carefully.

"When I first saw it, I saw her dying a swift death but being turned. So I didn't focus on the death part of it. It was so traumatic for me and she taught me to skip those parts. Besides, _how_ she died was irrelevant. It was so quick, and the main thing was that she was turned. You and I both know you always wished that she would be turned, Uncle Eric. You _always _wanted her with you longer. What was I supposed to tell you, then? And what could I tell her? I certainly couldn't tell you and _not_ tell her. She would have blamed you for allowing it to happen if you knew. And what if had told her and something worse happened? Like what if she changed something and then she really died? As it is, she will blame me for not telling her. But it was my only possible choice. It is what it is. It is what I saw. It is so much better than her being permanently dead. I… I wanted her to stay, too. I just tried not to think about how this would happen."

"_This_ is what you saw long ago? At Christmastime, long ago?" gasped Eric. He tried to remember that moment, of the child Hunter, sitting in his lap. He'd said things would be fine. Perhaps then, there was reason to hope things would be fine? But she had been murdered! "You said then that things would be fine? How is this fine, Hunter?" he asked, pressing hard. "Are you saying she will rise and not be upset or angry? Because you may be the psychic in the family but frankly I'm not seeing it that she's going to take this so well. Will things just end up fine? What are you telling me? Because I expect _answers_. She was murdered. You knew she would be murdered and you said nothing? I'm having a very hard time understanding you could allow such a thing to happen. It is… incomprehensible to me!"

Hunter weighed his words carefully. His voice sounded suddenly more distant, weary.

"Uncle Eric, do you honestly think that I'd let something terrible happen to her for no reason? Look, I don't want to give the wrong impression. It will be difficult in the beginning. It is not as you think. _She_ is not as you think. I'm telling you that things will be… Things will work out. How's that? Things will work out. But keep only people you really trust around her for now." He paused and drew a long breath and sounded slightly shaky. "I can't tell you more than that. In a way I don't know exactly what some of what I saw means. I didn't understand all of it. That part was really true. But I'll be home on Sunday. Just, try to keep someone calm and quiet around her with Aunt Pam. Maybe Stefan."

Eric was puzzled. What was he saying?

"_I_ am not calm and quiet? What _choices_? What does Stefan have to do with any of this?"

"You… Look, it will not take her long at all to realize that it was _not_ just Aunt Pam, Uncle Eric. _Choices were made_…" He seemed to struggle with what to tell him. "You're making a _choice_ here. And she's going to know that. Stefan is very gentle. I know she's closer to Cadel but it may be harder for him to be there and see her go through _your_ choice. It wasn't his choice to make the way it was yours and Aunt Pam's. It's not like she's going to fail to see that you could have…" He sighed. "It will be difficult for a time. For all of us. _That's _what I'm saying."

"_Hunter_…?" He wanted some assurance that it would be alright in the end. He needed to know.

Finally Hunter said,

"I don't want to mislead you. It will be difficult in the beginning. _Very_ difficult. But Andor _is_ right, Uncle Eric. She will forgive you. I… I cannot tell you more. I'll be home on Sunday. Give Aunt Pam my love. Please don't blame her anymore. Both of you have made choices here. Both of you. We _all_ did. And I did, probably more than anyone."

Then he simply hung up.

Eric turned to look at her lying there, so ashen, on the bed.

He _knew_?

And he knew that Eric was not able to put a final end to her. Clearly, he agreed with that choice. Amelia agreed as well. They all agreed, except perhaps Cadel, and even then, how likely was it that Cadel would not come around? Cadel who loved her so much? No, he would not have let her go either, no matter what lies he was currently telling himself on the issue. They were all in agreement. All of them.

He reflected again on his vow to her. Hunter said she wouldn't be as he thought she would. But how might she have changed? It was daunting to consider. Well, it didn't matter because he had given his word and sealed it in his blood. It was irrevocable. Hunter never would have allowed something to go very wrong for her, for them, he told himself. And it was impossible to consider any alternative, other than keeping things as they were, as far as he was concerned.

He could not do anything other than move forward, he said to himself, resolutely. They would move forward from this. She would have to adapt. It was sad, perhaps very unfair, but she would have to make the best as did he, and as did all of them.

Andor came to check on him a short time later.

"It is good then? You are more settled now?"

"I am resolved. It is not _good_, Andor," he said in Norse.

"But this is what you wanted," Andor replied. "It is what you wanted and it is for the best."

Eric shook his head, her hand still in his own.

"You do not understand, Andor. You have never understood. It is not as _she_ would have wished."

"She wished you to suffer, then? She did not care if you would feel her loss keenly? What kind of love is that, that you so covet?"

"I wanted it to be _her_ choice, Andor. As was her staying with me, being mine. Those were her choices."

"If she really loves you then this choice was made long ago. Some romantic or idealistic choice is pointless and could have amounted to a waste of her and a waste of your time in missing her. Pam has done you great service in this. This is as it should be."

"You are so confident, Andor. And you know her so little, it seems. Even after all this time."

"I may not know your grand love, but I know selfishness when I see it. It was selfishness that would make her not want to stay with you."

"Is it so selfish to want to be yourself, Andor?"

"Only if being yourself means you are careless of the affection of others."

Eric sighed heavily.

"She was _not_ careless of my affection. If anything, she was afraid of losing it. But perhaps I am careless of hers," he said softly.

"Perhaps you are too indulgent."

"She was not selfish Andor. She had already given up much to be with me. To be here, with us."

"And what have you given? Nothing? What is the point of sorrow over getting what you wanted? For you or for Pam? She was murdered and you still have her! Flanagan will make her a martyr to the cause. In every way I can think of this has been the best possible outcome. She had a good life and now she will continue a good existence here. What is the point of all this drama, Eric? She lived here like a well-spoiled child so far as I can see. She is turned in the best possible circumstances. You can manage her through Pam, enjoy her for as long as you will. I do not see the point of all this… emotionalism."

Eric stiffened. _As long as I will?_

"Leave me," he said gruffly, in English.

"Hvat?" replied Andor.

"Leave me," repeated Eric, harshly. "Leave me before I get angry all over again. Leave at once and mind your words on the matter in future."

Andor stood looking down at them silently for a moment.

"As you wish, minn bróðir," said Andor quietly. He turned and left the room.

Eric rose, closed the door to Pam's room, locking it from the inside, turned off the lights in the room and then lay down on the bed next to her. He looked at the ceiling and was surprised to see that Pam had affixed glow-in-the-dark stars in patterns of constellations all across the ceiling. Orion, Cassiopeja, Björnvaktaren, Tvillingarna, Lilla björnen, Lilla Karlavagnen, all of which he had learned as a child. He traced them with his eyes. The night. Perhaps she would finally learn to love the night, he hoped. But how she had loved the day, and the ease with which she could move in both night and day. An ease which allowed her to travel for her projects with Alla. Allowed her to live the life she had loved. Sunshine. How often had he resented that she had loved her sunshine? But it had been part of the fabric of her life, her happiness. He had remembered _life_ again, through her eyes. He saw all she had now lost, lost in just a few moments time. It would take her time to see what she might have gained.

With a heavy sigh, he picked up her hand again. At last, the dawn stole his strength and the long night was ended.


	2. Chapter 2

**II.**

**Friday, December 20, 2019**

Her screams were almost feral. Andor had taken Eric out of the building, driving him around, leaving Pam and Stefan to deal with her. Cadel and Markus paced the third floor glancing at one another occasionally, shaking their heads and grimacing. On the second floor, vampires working in the open areas and offices cringed. Many actually went downstairs to the kitchen, just to be further away from the sound. To everyone that had known her, the process was painful.

After several days media barrage and headlines in the local newspaper screaming "_VAMPIRE KING'S WIFE MURDERED" _and even national newspapers with more tempered headlines like "_Vampire Rights Advocate Assassinated",_ the reality of her being turned was still just sinking in. The news that she _had_ been turned leaked out in less than twenty-four hours, driving the media frenzy even further. The coroner had certified her death and Dr. Ludwig had certified her undeath. Charges were filed and Pam, who was not charged even for assault against the attacker, had endured long interviews with homicide detectives and FBI agents looking into hate crimes, since the attacker proudly admitted that he was a member of the God's Light organization. In _their _circles he was now a hero and a martyr. Meanwhile his photo was affixed to the dartboard in great room, until Andor made them take it away, saying it was too upsetting to Pam and Eric to see his face and know he still lived. Yes, it had been several nights of insanity. But the sound of her rising rattled everyone in the building more than any of those other things.

Of course, it wasn't supposed to be like this anymore. The horror of waking and realizing you were not alive? It was supposed to be a _choice_ to be turned, and that choice alleviated the fear, the loss and most of all, the horror of rising to find you were not completely gone.

Pam and Stefan struggled with her. The first few bottles were smashed as she struck them away. She was wild-eyed and combative. Not in hunger. In her anger. She stuck out at them again and again, seemed almost insensible, growling and screaming. Unlike a _confused_, horrified and hungry new vampire turned against her will, she seemed to know exactly what had happened. She was overflowing with anger. At first Pam was just annoyed, thinking it was the hunger, but gradually as she saw the anger, saw Sookie trying to strike her, her composure flagged. After more than forty-five minutes of fighting her, Pam almost cowered in a chair in the corner, her eyes red, on the verge of crying, as Stefan finally restrained her from behind, locking her in a hold so strong it looked like it could raise temporary bruises with what little blood she had. It was taking a 6' 3" tall, 300 year old vampire to restrain her. Pam watched her and felt chilled.

"Sookie, calm yourself. Calm yourself," Stefan said firmly.

She snarled and growled at him in response, finally bellowing in frustration at her inability to break away from him.

Pam just stared at her in horror. Where was her friend? She was utterly unrecognizable. What had she _done_ in turning her?

Stefan continued to speak calmly, trying to soothe her and explain.

"Sookie, you need to calm yourself. Pam needs to talk to you. You need to listen to her and you need to drink. We can't give you real blood until we see that you will stop breaking things. Pam… _Pam_! _Do your job_. Command her to stop!"

Pam rose and moved toward her, tentatively at first and then finally with more purpose. She was her friend. Her beloved friend. No matter how she had let her down, she would have to be strong enough to make this work. It had to work. Otherwise… _No._ There was _no_ otherwise.

"Sookie! Sookie, stop this nonsense immediately. Be still," she said in a level voice. "I insist that you comply."

She continued to struggle against Stefan's hold on her, thrashing as much as she could, still snarling like a feral animal, eyes glowing with anger. She had raked her nails down his face and arm before he'd gotten a firm grip on her from behind. It was shocking. Was this really even Sookie anymore? Neither of them had ever turned anyone and they had no means of knowing whether this was the usual result but she seemed absolutely wild. Their own memories of their awakening offered no insights.

Pam thought fearfully, in the back of her mind, what if it was a bad turn? She'd heard rumors of people who turned and went so wrong, were so out of control, that they had to be staked within days of rising. What if this was that wrong? Because this violent creature was so far from the Sookie she knew that it was frightening to behold. Sookie started thrashing and screaming gutturally again and Pam sat back down, covered her ears and hung her head down, over her knees. So efficient and cool in every other area of her life, this had her completely rocked her to the core. From the fact that she'd done this to her beloved friend, to the responsibility that it entailed, to the abiding fear that it would end disastrously, and that her sire would never, ever forgive her, even though he was no longer spewing venom at her openly and even seemed more at peace with it. It was still almost too much for her. All the control and orderliness that she had flawlessly maintained for decades, even making allowances for the attachment to her human friend, were falling to the wayside. No! She had to be focused. She had to pull herself together.

"Sookie, I command you to stop! I command it!" she said finally looking up and taking control of the situation. "You _will _behave yourself!"

She kept struggling, snarling and now trying even to bite at Stefan to get his arms off her.

Stefan looked past Sookie to Pam with puzzled eyes. Pam met his glance with her own puzzlement. The thrashing continued as he tried to prevent her from biting him.

"Tell her again," he said to Pam.

"Sookie! I _compel_ you to stop!" she said with focused intent.

She was utterly unresponsive and, if anything, seemed to struggle even harder after hearing the word compel. Her screams rose in pitch. She struggled fruitlessly against Stefan and then finally let out a horrible shriek of anger and frustration over his strong hold on her and slumped against him for a moment.

He tried a different tactic.

"Sookie, listen to me," he said calmly. She immediately resumed her struggle and he swung a leg on top of her thrashing ones. "Shit! Pam hold her ankles!" She'd got an arm loose and was trying to pull herself off the bed with it, as if to get away from them. "Sookie, you need to listen to me. What would make you listen? Would you listen for Pam? For Eric? For Hunter?"

At Hunter's name she stilled ever so slightly.

"Hunter… Listen to us for Hunter," he said soothingly. "Think of Hunter and how much he means to you. Hunter would want you to be calm, Sookie. He'd want you to be calm and to nourish yourself. You need to be well for when he comes home. But first, Pam needs to talk to you, to explain what happened to you. Pam?"

Pam held her ankles but soon switched to holding them down with one hand. She stroked her left calf with the other hand, trying to soothe her.

"Sookie, listen to me my friend. You were attacked. Do you remember the City Council meeting? You were attacked and stabbed. I tried to heal you and I…" Her eyes locked on Sookie's. "I made a terrible mistake, Sookie. You must forgive me, forgive my inexperience. I had never turned anyone. Never even seen anyone turned. I gave you my blood to try to save you and… and you died anyway. You were bleeding too much, too fast. It was all too close in time. I only realized after I'd given you blood that you might have turned. It was _never_ my intention to do this. I am so sorry, my friend. I have let you down. I ask that you forgive me. I am so very, very sorry. But we have to find a way to make this work. We will all help you. We love you, Sookie. _I_ love you…"

During this whole speech, Sookie had listened to her, stilled but tensing more and more like a tightly wound spring. At those last words she broke free from the hold on her ankle and kicked Pam in the face, letting out a guttural scream with the first full words she'd spoken:

"Then kill me! _Kill me_!"

Pam fell back off the bed onto the floor and looked up at her in shock, her hand over her mouth and tender jaw, and tears filled her eyes.

"No," she said in a whisper, as she looked back at her. "No, Sookie. It is my mistake, and I can only apologize for it. But I will _not_ harm you further. _NO_!"

Sookie went limp in Stefan's arms but he didn't relax his hold on her. She was too out of control to trust. She began to sob against him and then he felt that her strength, what little she'd had of it, was just ebbing away.

"She really needs to drink. She's exhausting herself and it's not going to be safe if she doesn't drink. If she gets away from us, we'll have a _serious_ problem. Open another one. Sookie, you _have_ to drink. You must. Pam try again to compel her to. She must drink."

"I don't know _how_. She didn't even respond before. She always hated people trying to control her, Stefan. And what if she hates me for it? How will that help us?"

"Well, if you're doing it to keep her from hurting herself or anyone else she'll _have_ to understand and obey you, Pam. She _needs_ to drink. If she gets away from us and attacks someone we'll have a real problem on our hands."

Pam opened the bottle of O negative and stepped cautiously toward her.

"Sookie, you must drink this. It will help you be calmer. Try for me." She spoke in soft tones, with calm. "Even if you are angry at me. Try it because you loved me. Remember? Or for Hunter. You must be strong for Hunter. It must be safe for you to see him. You cannot be hungry when you do. Please… you must drink, my friend. Please. It will make you feel better."

Stefan groaned audibly. _This_ was her version of being a sire? _Please?_ It sounded like something at a social gathering! He was seriously wondering what Eric was thinking leaving two people who had never turned anyone in charge of his wife…

Pam approached her and put the bottle on the nightstand and then began to gently stroke her hair, brushing it out of her face. Sookie was so weak that she didn't even fight, although she made low hissing sounds. Pam picked up the bottle and nodded to Stefan, who intensified his grip on her forearms even more as he pulled his arms crossed over her chest even tighter. Pam tipped her chin up slightly and pressed the bottle to Sookie's lips.

"Drink, Sookie. Drink… please." she said soothingly.

Stefan was amazed… because Sookie finally drank. After the first few sips, she calmed. Then she drank bottle after bottle as Pam gently stroked her arm or combed some order back into her hair. Then Pam opened several bags of real blood. She had six bottles of True Blood and two pints of whole blood on top of that. She was simply ravenous after the almost hour-long struggle with Stefan. It was as much as she could have drained from a _very_ large human. When she was done, she was as flushed and pink as if she was still alive. Finally, Stefan had relaxed his grip, and let her roll away from him when she was finished. He covered her with the comforter and quickly rose from the bed, not wanting to chance her having any of the common feelings that arose with feeding, which likely would confuse or embarrass her later, or worse still get him in serious trouble with Eric. He stood with Pam as they looked down at her, her face buried in the pillows. Her hands, balled into fists scraped against the pillows and mattress. She began to make faint keening sounds.

He shook his head, grimacing. He put his arm around Pam and rested his chin on her head.

"Did you ever turn anyone, Stefan," whispered Pam.

Stefan shook his head. And he'd never want to, looking at this scene…

"Why?" he whispered back.

"I think something is wrong. What I feel when Eric speaks to me, commands me… or long ago when he compelled me, it… it's like a connectedness or something. Like a pull on a line. You can feel it _physically_ when your sire compels you, right? Well, I just don't feel that. I don't feel… anything really, other than what I always felt with her before. I… I'm not sure," she whispered, "that she's mine. That I'm really her sire. I don't know how that can be but, it's like there's nothing there. I mean, of course, I… I am very fond of her, just as before. But I do not feel the connection that I thought there would be between sire and child. When I think at her angrily that she must calm down, she does not. I know that Eric is much older than I am, but I thought it was a given that if you were a sire, you could snap your child to attention? That they would respond to your will. I think something is very wrong."

Stefan glanced back at Sookie. She _hadn't_ responded. Even when Pam was shouting at her. How much of Eric's blood had Sookie really had over the years, he wondered? It seemed like awfully personal information, although he'd recently heard that it might be rather a lot. She'd certainly hardly aged at all in the time he'd known her, but then she'd had that odd healing with the Fae or whatever they were. She and Eric been together for ten steady years and fourteen in total. Could it be that really Eric's blood was what had turned her, or if not turned her, at least what was animating her now? Could that even be possible?

"Maybe she's Eric's, Pam. Maybe that's why she can't be soothed or controlled. She's had so much of his blood over the years, right? Like you told me… She's hardly aged at all with whatever Bert and his mother did. She awoke and he isn't here. A lot of his blood has been in her, even if she lost most of it. More his, probably, than yours, right? She has to be frightened enough as it is. But she can't even sense him near her… Maybe that's why?" He turned away from her and walked toward the hall as he took out his cell phone.

Cadel was still lingering outside though it appeared that Markus had gone downstairs, too disturbed to continue to listen after Sookie had screamed at Pam to kill her. "Trauerspiel," he'd said to Cadel then walked away. Cadel cringed at her screams, as he watched Markus traipse down the hall. But he'd stayed, even if he hadn't wanted to go in.

"She's finally calm then?" asked Cadel, in a weary tone of voice. "She's unbelievable. Makes the one I made look like a mere cooing babe… She's always had a bright temper, but…" He shook his head. It looked to be a daunting prospect. "I'm sorry Stefan. I just couldn't watch it. I think it's wrong, what we've done. Wrong to keep her. Though I can't much stand the thought of the options to solve the situation at this point, either," he said, shuddering. "I've had quite the earful from Andor on that topic, I might add."

Stefan looked soberly at him and asked,

"You said the other day you had turned someone. What does it feel like, the connection? In the beginning, you already feel it? Right away, as soon as they rise, to control them, right?"

"With your child? Yes, of course. It's like magic. It _is_ magic. Of course you feel it right away. It's like you feel them tug on the line and you just reel them right back to you, nice and tight. It's easy, or it was to me. But then mine had a very different nature. Why?"

Stefan waved Cadel into silence. He called Andor's phone. In German, so Cadel could follow too, he said,

"She has risen but I think we need Eric to come back immediately. Something is odd. She does not act as if Pam is her sire. She does not respond to commands or even attempts to compel her. It took more than an hour just to get her to drink. Bring him back now, if you can. We want to see if she is better with Eric than with Pam."

Andor made the taciturn reply "Soon" to Stefan. But in the background they heard Eric insisting to Andor that he could _feel her._ Andor only affirmed that they would return shortly and hung up.

Cadel looked at Stefan as if trying to figure out what he'd just heard.

"She's _not _Pam's? _He_ feels her? But how can that be?"

Stefan shook his head. In a very low voice he said,

"I'm not sure. Like you said, it's all magic, right? She's been bound to Eric strongly for what, fourteen years? That's a long time when it comes to blood. And you know what it was like. We could all feel that connection between them. It was unmistakable. Who knows how much of his blood she's had. I mean, it's not our business really, but between you and me, I know Pam's told me that Eric likes being bitten. So maybe even by a human, right? Maybe she's had more of his blood than we ever realized. She certainly glowed like it. It always made me wonder. She never looked like a regular human after she moved here. So perhaps, even if Pam technically turned her…? And then it's Eric's blood that turned Pam in the first place, right… Who knows? Look, won't you talk to her? Pam is just not up to it and Sookie was so close to you, Cadge. She's still crying and if you can get her calmer it will be easier on Eric, on her and on all of us."

Cadel looked the other way, as if hesitating. Finally, he looked back at Stefan and said, shaking his head.

"Fine. I'll talk to her. I just don't want her to think _I_ thought this whole thing was swell. It wasn't following her wishes, Stefan. I'm not blaming Pam, or even blaming Eric. But I'm mindful of the fact that clearly, it isn't what we all know full well she was promised. And that there are simple ways that that promise could have been fulfilled that were not taken."

"She wasn't turned intentionally, Cadel. You certainly can't blame Eric for keeping her once she'd turned. She's his _wife_. You can't seriously think that he'd just do away with her like that. And you know, I agree with Andor. I think you couldn't do it either, no matter what you say right now. You know how you feel about her, which is just like Pam does, whether you say the words or not. If Pam couldn't do away with her then you couldn't either. And there's simply no way he could. Just… talk to her, Cadge. Maybe you can make her feel more hopeful. But she's fed a lot, so don't touch her too much, just so there are no misunderstandings. Eric is still so hair-trigger right now. You don't want to have a problem with him. There are other mirrors in there and let me tell you, it's not very pleasant when you're wearing one."

"Oh, I don't know UB, it looked kind of like one of those snazzy East Indian outfits… or maybe a disco thing. You remember the disco years, right? You always were so late in getting in on fads and style. The disco years were grand. No questions, loose morals… You were only about fifty years late this time. Better than usual. Are you _sure _you were admitted to university? I mean really, you're so slow sometimes…"

Stefan pointed at him and said with a smile, "_That's_ what she needs, Cadge. She needs to laugh. You can do that for her. You did it for me. You're the best friend one could have when you're down like she is."

Cadel met his pale blue eyes and sighed. Then he nodded and went in. He bent down to hug Pam. She looked so tense, worried. He still didn't even have the heart to tease her. He walked around to the other side of the bed, and sat down to chat with the bundle buried in the blankets and pillows. Sookie was crying softly under the pillows and clawing lightly on the mattress, though at least she wasn't shredding the sheets with her sharp red nails.

"Good evening, Sookie. I thought I'd stop in to see how you're doing. I've been quite worried about you. The whole idea of leaving you in Pamela and Stefan's hands seemed like a shaky prospect to me," he said playfully. "She already has you knackered and crying, I see. Why I'm not surprised? And I see you've even been breaking things. A clear message, that. Can't say I blame you, especially where Pamela is concerned. But I don't see a mark on either one of them. You need to hit them much harder since they heal so quickly remember? Or maybe harder _and_ more often. Show some serious effort, not this half-hearted display. But not on me. Remember that you've got not a _thing_ against me. Cadge had nothing to do with the entire business. Other than to tell Pamela that she was finally going to be in trouble with you after all these years. You know, I think we should come up with your revenge plan. Of course, I'm hoping that it involves her personal property. The kind with wheels, perhaps?"

She had stilled under the pillows at his voice but didn't respond. However her hand had stopped clawing on the mattress. He reached out and stroked her forearm lightly and then withdrew his hand, remembering Stefan's concern.

"You know, I know it's probably not what you want to hear right now, but I think you'll have to find positive things to think about to get you by in the beginning. For instance, have you thought about how this could affect your driving skills, love? Maybe you'll even be chuffed enough to stop complaining about _mine_? Although, that might be too much to hope for, especially if Pamela's blood is involved here. But anyway, even if you're Pamela's child, you should be able to go joyriding in her car. It's just _sharing_, innit? She owes you that. And that new Jag of hers is an attractive car. It's the very least she can do for you, all things considered. Anyway, now's the time to make the big demands, right? She really owes you after all. If you need any help coming up with suggestions for ways for her to make amends, I'm thinking I could be of some genuine assistance…"

She was calmed listening to his banter, and gradually she seemed to have relaxed in the pillows. He pushed them aside and smiled down at her with his huge dimples.

"There now…" he said softly. "That's doing better. I'm so glad you've stopped hollerin'. It was giving me a headache, and we're not even meant to get headaches. Why, I think it would have tanked my scores even with my headphones on, to hear you go on like that. I was worried I'd have to ask Pamela to scold you. She's not looking very adept at the moment though, is she? You should see her face. She's so jealous I can get you calmer than she can. Natural talent, is what I've got. I don't think she's got even a clue about how to turn anyone. No wonder you've been upset. It's bad enough to make such a clumsy mistake but then to not even know what to do once you've made it? Although, I'd have to say she's rather easier on the eyes than _my_ sire was… If you're going to wake up to someone, Pam's not bad in that one sense. Though, I'm thinking you'll be spared the verbal abuse, as well. She's always liked you so much better than the rest of us. Odd, that…"

She peered up at him guardedly, locking onto his eyes.

Ten minutes later, Eric came into the room. He tossed a black leather jacket onto Pam's settee near the bedroom door. Stefan appeared to be doing something odd with Cadel, shaking him. Pam looked newly distraught. He steeled himself to look at Sookie as he took in the scene of the broken bottles and the six that were lined up on the sofa table, along with a few empty Red Cross bags. He combed his fingers through his hair and approached the bed. As he got closer he could see that she appeared to be heaving, sobbing softly under the pillows. He glanced from Pam to Stefan and then got a good look at Cadel. Cadel's eyes were almost glazed in their look. It was rather bizarre.

"Stefan," he said rather puzzled, "What is happening here?"

Stefan replied without looking at him as he backhanded Cadel in the face.

"This is definitely glamour, Pam," he said glancing over at Pam, who looked astonished while stroking Sookie's back. Turning to Eric he said, "She's _glamoured_ him! He was sitting talking to her and looked her in the eye and was like the two of them were locked together and we couldn't get them to break it. She doesn't respond to Pam at all. We had to physically pull her away from Cadel. She says she doesn't know what she did. He's really glamoured into a trance. I can't get him to snap out of it."

Eric looked at Sookie, who was now heaving sobs, buried under the pillows and he looked back at Cadel.

"How is that possible? That can't be." He strode over to Cadel and grabbed his cheekbones between his thumb and forefingers and looked into his eyes. He was staring vacantly, with no recognition at all. He really looked as if he'd been glamoured into a trance-like state. "_How is this possible_? I have never seen a newly made vampire who could do anything like this."

He froze. He suddenly recalled Hunter's words to him three nights before… _It is not as you think. _She_ is not as you think... Keep only people you trust around her._ Maybe he didn't mean it as he had taken it. Maybe he meant her abilities?

In almost eleven hundred years, he'd seen only two vampires who could glamour their own kind. And both were… telepaths. One had been bound to a female vampire for many years before she became his sire and they were still together hundreds of years later, when he'd met them in the 1600's. And the other? Telepathy was somewhat uncommon among vampires but the ability to glamour their own kind was, so far as he knew, exceedingly rare. And a very _dangerous_ gift. It was one that was likely to get you killed by your own kind because of the risks it posed. Was she still telepathic and was this truly glamouring? What could she see or do with it? Because what he had seen in the past, hundreds of years before, had been rather… frightening. Both in ability and outcome.

He looked at her again. He'd felt an immediate reconnection when she rose, but it was odd. It did not quite feel as it had before and it did not feel as it did with a child. Had she really turned as his instead of Pam's? Did she even belong to anyone? He'd never turned someone he'd been bound to but was absolutely certain that it ought to feel different from… this. The connection was not smooth. He felt her fear and anger but no submission.

He wanted to see her. He cautiously pulled back one of the down pillows.

"Sookie?" He pulled another away and could see her long blond hair, wild and still faintly streaked with blood from her death, fallen over her cheek. "Min älskade?" he said softly.

She did not respond and just continued crying.

"Sookie, sit up and look at me," he said firmly in a neutral tone.

She didn't respond at all.

"Sookie, I want to see you. I want you to stop crying and look at me. Come, sit up so I can see you."

She didn't stop crying and didn't shift her position in the least.

So much for their thoughts that she was _his_, he thought to himself. But he could feel her, her anger and something was like a trace of fear. He wanted to see her. His eyes narrowed with annoyance as he thought angrily to himself, _Come on, Sookie!_ _Sit up. Just sit up and look at me. I want to see you. Sit up! _as he tried to pull away another pillow and get a hand on her wrist. She was grabbing onto the pillow, preventing him from seeing her face and as his hand closed around her wrist, the word,

_NO! _Came her answer, like a shout, in his mind.

His eyes widened. She heard him? But more importantly, for the first time _he heard her in his mind_.

"Sookie?" He paused but she did not reply. _What did you do to Cadel?_

There was an audible sob in response to the mental question and then, finally, she replied,

_I don't know! I was looking at him while he talked to me and then it was like I was on one of those trains that goes down into a mine. I couldn't stop. It's like I was inside him, seeing things in his mind. I don't know how to get out. I don't know what I did. It isn't like what I used to see or do. I just…. I want to die and just be done with this. I want to die. Please, please let me die._

He paused to absorb it. She was seeing things in his mind? And this was with Cadel, who was almost four hundred years old, and a very strong-minded person? Meanwhile, he could communicate telepathically with her? Was this her projection into his mind or a genuine mutual connection? Was she, even now, as he stood there, pushing into _his_ mind, too? It all just seemed impossible.

But first things first. Cadel… She had to release Cadel.

_My love, you are already dead. Find Cadel in your thoughts. You need to release him._

_I am so confused… _she sobbed mentally. _What did I do?_

_I will explain. You have glamoured him, and you need to release him from your mind. Concentrate on Cadel. You must release him. Find him in your thoughts._

_I want to die. Really die. None of this would have happened if I really died. None of it. I want to…_

_FIND HIM! _ he shouted, mentally.

She sobbed again.

_Do you see him? Do you see him in your mind, Sookie?_

_Yes..._ she went on crying_._

_Release him slowly... gently. Pull yourself back from him, subtly. Walk backwards in your mind. If you are touching him in any way in your mind, let go of him. Visualize yourself releasing him, but _with care_._

Slowly, after about a minute, Cadel seemed to become alert again and then suddenly he was just back. He put his hand to his cheekbone and looked up at Stefan, who was standing closest to him.

"Bloody hell… who _hit_ me?"

Stefan smiled and shook his head.

"Oh, I've been wanting to do it for years, Cadge… Finally caught you when you couldn't zoom away," he said with a chuckle. Welcome levity in the midst of this scene, he thought as he patted Cadel's shoulder a bit in comfort.

"What happened, then? What happened?" asked Cadel, rising from the bed and looking back and forth from Sookie, to Stefan to Eric and even over at Pam. Andor stood at the back of the room, leaning against the wall, stoic as always.

Eric looked at the three of them.

"She didn't do it to you, Stefan? Pam?"

They shook their heads.

"Do _what_? What the bloody hell _happened_? What did she do?" asked Cadel.

Stefan said,

"Actually… you know, I didn't look her in the eyes. I was mostly restraining her from behind. She really fought. She did not want to drink. Then, Pam's hardly looked directly at her. She was so upset she didn't really look directly at her a lot of the time."

"I'm beginning to sympathize with being the ignored middle child. Would someone tell me _what_ the bloody hell happened?"

Eric held up a hand to silence him. He looked down at her.

"Stefan sit down next to her and look at her. Sookie, sit up."

She didn't respond.

_I said sit up, Lover. _

She was totally silent. Had she heard him? What was she doing?

_Stop being stubborn with me. Min älskade?_

_Did you make her do this to me? _Came the question, in the angry mental tone.

It was already beginning then… It had taken her less than five minutes in his presence. He glanced over at Pam. "Did you tell her? Did you tell her what you did and how it happened?"

Pam nodded solemnly.

_It was as she told you, Lover. I was not even there, remember? I had nothing to do with it. I did not know until it was too late. I was angry. Very angry._

_But then why am I here? You could have had me cremated and I'd be gone, Eric. Why am I still here?_

He hesitated, wondering just how much of a telepathic connection there really was between them. She had gotten to the heart of it so quickly.

_You were… You are _hers_. She turned you. She tried to save you because she loved you. You are hers._

He felt an incredible jolt of white-hot anger. It surged through him like lightning. She seemed to almost launch herself out of the pillows and bedding at him as if she could fly.

"_LIAR! You're lying to me!_" she said practically spitting the words at him. "I am not hers! I'm _your _responsibility. It's _your fault _I'm like this_! _You _chose_ to leave me this way!"

He caught her wrists as her hands and fingernails got within inches of his face. She stood on the bed, struggling in his hold, staring down, almost eye to eye with him, her fangs down. She hissed at him saying,

"_I will never forgive any of you. _Ever. You're a pack of liars! How could you _do_ this to me? How? _I hate you_. I hate all of you! And I will find a way to get myself up onto that roof and be a pile of ash at the very first opportunity I have!"

It was almost as if a wave of her venom coursed through the room as she spoke. Andor, who stood back near the door let out an audible gasp at her words.

"Oh, Sookie, don't talk so, love…" said Cadel shaking his head, then burying it in his hand.

In spite of the fact that he was almost reeling with the impact of her words, Eric stayed focused.

_Be that as it may, Lover, you are here, now. You are Pam's child. And clearly she did not wish to dispose of you. Do you expect me to choose otherwise?_

_I am NOT hers. I am yours, you idiot! _She _does not speak to me. _You_ are speaking to me. I hear you speaking in my mind just as before only louder. You, with your lying words. You could have gotten rid of me and you didn't. You have _broken_ your word! You did not want to let me go. You blame her but you are as much to blame as she is, even more so. You could have compelled her to follow my wishes. You could have and didn't because _you_ didn't _want_ to follow my wishes!_

_You are here, and here you will stay. The mistake was made. You'll have to forgive her._

"I will _never_ forgive you," she snarled at him out loud as she struggled with him, eyes glowing.

He tightened internally. He quickly recalled Hunter's words again. When had Hunter ever been wrong with something he'd told him? Never.

He looked up at her face, her wild eyes, and said,

_I forgive your anger. You were wronged, my Lover. By the man that killed you and by Pam's well-intended mistake. I have not wronged you. If you feel I have let you down, I am sorry. I will wait for your forgiveness. I am sorry to have to ask for it. But you will stay here, with us. I'm sorry. _

_You could have burned me and honored my wishes._

He let out the slightest gasp. Did she really believe he could do that? It was an impossible. _She was his wife! _The very idea was wrong and she would have to come to her senses about it. He steeled himself internally thinking about how hard it had been in the early years of the marriage to get her to change her way of thinking or behaving… of how hard it had been to fully earn her trust. Well, they had plenty of time ahead of them to return to where they had been. It was about the only thing promising that he could see. They had _plenty_ of time. But he could set things moving with the first small step.

"Do you absolve me of my promise, with respect to Pam?" he said aloud, while still holding her wrists in an iron grip.

She did not respond to him. His eyes glowed as he looked her in the eyes. His fangs went down. She struggled to pull away from him as if fearful of him.

"Sookie, do you wish me to kill her? She turned you, without your permission, and against your wishes. Do you wish me to follow through on my promise or not?"

"The fact that I am still here is ultimately _your_ _choice_. Leave her _alone_," she hissed, struggling with him and trying to free her wrists from his grasp.

So she was forgiving Pam. Exactly as Hunter had said, he thought… somewhat unfortunately, since now _he_ was fully to blame in her eyes. But still, forgiving Pam was a step in the right direction and right now, _any_ step in that direction was desirable.

"Fine. _Good_," he said. "Now," he continued, pushing back on her arms while swinging his leg over the edge of the bed and knocking her knees forward from behind, so that she fell onto them on the bed, "look at Stefan."

She still struggled with him, snarling, her fangs down. He felt in a quandary, afraid he could hurt her if he really grabbed her or tried to force her too harshly to do it. He knew from personal experience what it felt to awake to violence and subjugation. He was sure that would leave behind irreparable harm to their relationship.

_Stop fighting me, Sookie. You will not win. I don't want to hurt you. I don't want you to hurt yourself. Trust me and just cooperate. Look at Stefan._

_I hate all of you. You all lied to me. I trusted you and you all lied._

_You don't hate Pam. Would you prefer to have her tell you what to do?_

_She will just be doing your bidding, _she said in mental snarl. _I will hate it just as much or even more._

_Well then you better do as I ask you and spare her being my go-between. Look at Stefan. Remember what happened with Cadel? Look at Stefan. Do it again._

_No!_

She struggled and finally he grabbed her face and stared into her eyes himself. She trembled a bit in his hands and cast her eyes away from his.

"When you were in Cadel's mind, what did you see? Did you see something that frightened or upset you? What did you see?"

"What do you mean she was in my mind?" interjected Cadel. "_How_ was she in my mind?"

"_Cadel!_" snapped Eric, glancing at him sharply. He looked back into her eyes. "Sookie, what did you see? Tell me what you saw. Tell me now," he said, applied slightly more pressure with his grip on her.

She shivered. He wasn't sure whether she was afraid of him or afraid of what she'd seen. She stopped struggling then and suddenly seemed sad, rather than angry, and somewhat distant.

"Everything," she said in a whisper. "His dark, damp stone house in Cardiff. His parents with their mean, abusive ways. Always hitting. Hitting Cadel. Hitting the others if he wasn't there to protect them. He was the oldest. He wouldn't let them go after the little ones after he got big enough. His father was a thief. He, himself, was pick-pocketing and thieving, from when he was a child. Ocella saw him working the port area. So swift and sure. Eighteen and counted a man but wouldn't leave the others to his parents' care. He had been thieving for years to get food. He stole to feed his brothers and sister. His parents stole from him, from them, to drink. When he was changed, he fought so hard not to die… but there was no fighting such strength. Such a painful death… to fight so hard instead of giving in. Ocella was angry that he fought so. But he said he had admired his quickness and skill. He had watched him for several nights. Until he had a secure place to…." Her face was filled with distaste but shifted to sadness. Then she turned to Cadel. "Angharad died not long after you," she said softly to him. "You never told me. The poor Aderyn… She was barely seventeen. She was so sick all along and then she died when you were gone, with no one to fend for her. You went back years later and couldn't even find a proper gravesite. Your family was so poor. And no one marks the graves of the poor…" she whispered.

Cadel went almost ghostly pale looking at her, his jaw slack. _She knew Angharad's_ _nickname…_ Aderyn, aderyn bach, his little bird, a name that had not crossed his lips in centuries… She met his eyes and then looked down.

"Anything else?" said Eric, sharply.

Cadel looked away. She had seen his human life, his family… what else had she seen in his mind? How long had she been rooting around in his head?

"I already told you too much!" she snarled at Eric. "It was no one's business. I should never have told you a thing. He doesn't like it. It's not anyone's business but his." She looked as if she was angry at herself and started to agitate again in his hold.

Eric still held her face firmly with one hand while the other gripped her shoulder. He turned her toward Stefan.

"Look at Stefan. Look at him. Do it again. I want to _see_ you do it."

She snarled at him with teeth. Snarled! Only the firm hold he had on her face prevented him from being bitten.

_Make me. You think I do not see it? You have lied to me. How many years have you lied? Did you love me at all? Did you know I'd be like this? You just wanted to use me? Just waiting until you were sure you could get what you wanted?_

He let go of her face and grabbed her by the shoulders with both hands, shaking her a bit.

"Sookie!" _Now you listen to me! Listen to me clearly. Of course, I love you. And I will not 'use you'. I need to know what you are doing in order to keep you safe. Now you will do it, or I_ _will _make_ you do it and we'll have an even longer time to get through this. _

"I hate you," she spat at him. "You can't make me do a damn thing. Not a one of you. I _hate_ you!"

Everyone in the room froze, almost spellbound by the venom of her words and the tone in which they were said to him. The raw defiance in her voice and the way she spoke to him were just shocking…

He looked at her, his eyes now glowing red with anger. Having her say these things in front of all of them… But he steadied himself. There were ways to still be in charge of her… He grabbed her jaw firmly in his hand again.

"You can feel however you wish. But you will _do_," he turned her head firmly back toward Stefan, "as I _say_," he said in a mordant tone. In a mental tone filled with far more menace he said,

_I mean it, Sookie! Look at him and do what you did to Cadel. Try to do it again. I want to see it. Don't make me _make you_ do it. _

She now trembled visibly in his hands, her teeth chattering slightly. She was afraid of him. He could feel real fear from her. As angry as she was she was afraid. She had seen what Ocella did to his children… What he'd do if they fought him. That thought was horrible to him. He didn't want to see her afraid of him. It was like going back to the beginning… But he had to understand what she was doing. So sadly, afraid it was.

_DO IT!_ he shouted at her mentally, with eyes glowing.

She jumped slightly then focused on Stefan. For a moment or two nothing seemed to happen. Stefan looked at her steadily, and almost sorrowfully. Her eyes suddenly glowed red and then shifted to an odd, almost indefinable metallic color, settling finally on white-hot copper. She went completely still and then Stefan froze and they were locked into one another. Suddenly, she gasped and seemed to recoil at something.

_Fine, enough. Let him go. Sookie, let him go._

It was as if she didn't hear him. He physically turned her face away from Stefan. But the connection still did not release.

_Lover, release him. Let him go._ He stroked her cheek gently.

_I want more blood,_ she seemed to murmur in her thoughts.

_Let him go and I will get you real blood. As much as you wish. _

Suddenly she turned back to Stefan and seemed to struggle with something. Suddenly she cried out as if in pain and looked even more horrified.

"Sookie, let him go!" he insisted, shaking her by the shoulder slightly.

Almost a minute passed, and then finally she seemed to go limp in his arms and Stefan was alert again. He shook his head as if dizzy.

Eric turned to him, while literally holding her up. He let go of her once she seemed steadier, but stroked her cheek tenderly before she could pull away from him.

"What does it feel like?"

Stefan shook his head again.

"It feels almost like being on downtime. I'm aware of a lapse of time, like I'm awake but I'm suddenly aware that I wasn't paying attention. It is… disorienting. I'm honestly not sure I'd know what was going on if I hadn't seen it before with Cadel."

Eric glanced back at Andor and said something in Norse about Markus. He turned to Sookie.

"Next we try Markus. I want to see one other thing. In the meantime, what did you see in Stefan's mind?"

She seemed lost in thought, her eyes fixed off on some point past Eric. They glistened as if she was on the verge of tears. He reached out and cupped her cheek in his hand, trying to comfort her.

"Sookie? What did you see?"

She didn't respond to him. Her eyes were flooding with tears, her mouth hung open as if in mid-gasp.

He stroked her cheek gently with his thumb. He started to regret having had her look into Stefan's mind. Perhaps he should have had her try Markus for both things instead. Stefan's early existence had been far from happy.

"Sookie," he said softly. "What is it? What did you see?" Had she seen… Perhaps it had been a serious mistake on his part…

Looking remote, and speaking as if almost in a trance herself, she said softly,

"Göteburg, 1818. Karelia is lost. Bernadotte will be the king. The campaign against Norway begins. Vampires are being hunted, staked, burned in Europe, but not in Sweden and Norway. Not yet. Home is still relatively safe. Hiding. Feeding. So much remorse in remembrance. Ocella returns. He is _such_ sadist. No trace of humanity left, only disdain for everything and everyone. So much resistance, trying to fight. But all for nothing. He is always, always too strong. The desire to break free. _Not again_… It would be better to have a final death than a hundred more years of this. So much better to be truly dead than this," she said in a whisper. Then she was silent, her eyes growing wide. She cried out and buried her face in her hands, whispering "No, no…. no!"

She still looked as if in a trance. Stefan rose off the bed and looked down at her as if strangely fascinated and horrified. Eric pulled her hands away from her face and found pink tears trailing down her cheeks.

Eric snapped his fingers in front of her but she still seemed frozen as if in a vision, still crying. She made a soft huffing sound and remained lost, as if trapped in some other place. He finally reached out and shook her firmly.

"Sookie… Sookie… Come back!"

She snapped to attention and hissing at his touch.

"Keep away from me. Don't touch me! Don't you dare touch me!"

Then she glanced over at Stefan and looked at him as if puzzled, and quite sorrowful.

Eric turned her face back to him and looked at her with concern.

_Are you alright, min älskade? I am sorry if his memories unsettled you. Are you trying to see the past? Are you trying to see anything specific? What are you looking for when you enter their minds? Is it just what they are thinking about? Your turning remind them of their own? How are you seeing these things?  
_

_Leave me alone._

_I need to understand what you are doing. Can you see his present thoughts and past memories? Does he hear you?_

She glanced over at Stefan and then back at Eric.

_I won't tell you anything. Even if he hears me, I wouldn't tell you or tell you what I said._

"Sookie, look at me. This is important. _Did_ you tell him anything? Have you told either Cadel or Stefan anything while you were in their minds?"

_Like what?_

_You have not put thoughts into them that were not there? You have not influenced them in anyway? This is a dangerous gift to possess, Sookie. You must be very careful with it._

_I don't play with people the way you do. I don't mess with people's free will. I don't take their lives from their hands or use them._

He gnashed his teeth and fought to simply not react. This was clearly going to be exasperating, he thought to himself. He was used to her being argumentative but not when she was this angry and venomous. He might loosely be her sire but it seemed that he couldn't truly control her. He couldn't shut her up or rein her in. At least not without making her very afraid and possibly hurting her and that would only make things worse. He clenched and unclenched his jaw in frustration.

_Then do what she wanted you to do. Let her_ _die at dawn… _came an almost seductive voice in his head. A glamouring voice he realized, sounding almost as the voice in his own mind. She was already so very sly. He pushed the voice aside with amusement.

_I tell you again: you are already dead. And you have far to go before you can influence my thoughts, Sookie. Especially if you ask for such unreasonable things. _Out loud, to reassure Cadel and Stefan, he said,"So you have not told them anything, then? Put any thoughts in their minds? Good." _Everything will be fine, my love. You are still hungry, yes? Do you want more blood, my famished little one? Markus approaches. You have a good appetite, which is a good sign._

Markus entered the room carrying more bagged blood. Eric gestured to him to come closer. He strode over toward Eric, Sookie and Stefan. Eric gestured Stefan away and he stepped back toward Andor.

"This is the last of the O positive. But we have a lot of A positive," Markus said, looking at her apprehensively. She looked so odd and so… angry and wild. Not like herself at all. But at least she was no longer screaming.

"Sookie, look at Markus. _Glamour him_."

Her eyes were already fixed on the blood in the bags. Her nostrils flared as if she could smell it right through the bag. This time, without even a fight, she glanced up at Markus and her eyes instantly went coppery. Markus glanced at her, puzzled, and started to ask Eric something… "Was ist…?" when she caught his eyes and almost instantly he froze. Eric looked at him with curiosity. He reached over and took the bags from him hands and tossed them to Pam, nodding. She opened a bag and poured it into the glass while he pushed Markus gently in the center of his chest and he wobbled back into place.

_I want you to make him laugh. Like you told him a joke. Just focus your mind on trying to make him laugh._

But Sookie already seemed to be locked into Markus and doing something else entirely. Suddenly she rose off the bed and drew closer to Markus, her head tipped at an odd angle. Standing on the bed she stood over him by a few inches. She drew closer and closer, finally touching his face with her hands, her own face mere inches away from his. She looked very puzzled and murmured something that sounded like _Sie sind verwirrt. Was ist hier geschehen? _Confused? Eric thought to himself. What was she talking about? She seemed to study something in him very attentively. Then she gasped and then burst into cackling laughter. It gave Eric chills.

_Sookie? Is something wrong? I asked you to make _him_ laugh, Lover. _

"Nein, ist das nicht wie es war_,"_ she said murmuring to herself softly. She continued to be totally focused on something in Marcus's mind. "Was Sie gesehen haben, war richtig." She continued murmuring and then started laughing softly again, shaking her head.

"Sookie? Did you understand me, Sookie? Is something wrong? _What_ did he see?"

She couldn't stop laughing softly as she held onto his face and seemed to start murmuring 'Nein' and something else to Markus. He couldn't catch her thoughts-they were all staccato and too fast. Her eyes flashed and moved rapidly as if she was seeing a stream of things. He wondered if she was seeing images. She had described that to him in the past as the way a lot of her telepathy worked, and now he could only hear her thoughts occasionally. She was either not thinking verbally or he could really only hear her if she let him.

_Sookie… What is wrong? Let him go._

_Jetzt werden Sie es Ganzes sehen…_was a phrase he caught. Wait… suddenly he took it in… _German_? She was _thinking_ in German? German had been so difficult for her. It was as if she could absorb part of Markus's thoughts, even to the point of his language?

Then she seemed to spin out of control with the laughter, even as he felt a jolt of real fear from her. In fact, fear seemed to course through her and he felt it almost as if it was his own. What was she afraid of? There was an edge of panic to what she felt. She had seen something that had made her very afraid. But in Markus? What could he have seen that would frighten her?

"Sookie, what is it? What do you see? What did _he_ see?"

He physically shook her and then held her face in his two hands and tried to force himself into her thoughts.

"Sookie, Let him go!" he said out loud. "What _is_ it? What is wrong?"

She seemed to snap to attention suddenly. The panic was under control and her words fell quietly from her lips as she looked at him with eyes a chilling and clear blue.

"He isn't dead! He never died. He _tricked_ you all. He glamoured Markus before he drained him and then he escaped. It was another vampire's remains. Gunnar? It was the remains of _another_ vampire. He killed him to trick you all, while Markus was left glamoured and dying. He isn't really dead at all."

Eric, Stefan, Andor and Cadel all leaned in closer toward her, eyes wide, open mouthed.

"Wait a minute! _What?" _gasped Andor. "_What_ are you saying about Gunnar?"

"He killed him. Ocella killed Gunnar to trick you all into thinking Markus had succeeded in killing _him_. He awoke and caught Markus trying to stake him. He glamoured him, damaged his mind and memories, drained him, left him dying. He pulled Gunnar out of the crypt slot where he slept. He staked Gunnar and left his own knife, the German one he'd liked, for you to find. Then he fled in the early darkness before you rose. You thought Gunnar had fed off of Markus and then left already because he was free. Markus's thoughts were too jumbled, like pieces of a puzzle all out of place. He saw _Ocella_ stake Gunnar but did not understand _what_ he saw because he was weak, dying and so glamoured into silence. He'd lost so much blood and Ocella's mind was so strong. He glamoured him so intensely… burning his mind, leaving him so confused as he tried to figure out which of you had been responsible for setting Markus on him. But Markus couldn't say because he'd been glamoured into not being able to say as a precaution. Ocella was so frustrated that he couldn't see who it was. So it was just layers one on top of another. Markus got more and more confused. He couldn't explain it to Andor. But he had been so useful. He had been good. It was wrong to let him die… He heard parts of your conversation but did not understand what was going on. He was too weak and even when Andor turned him rather than leaving him to die, he was so… confused. He was very afraid and confused. His mind was all jumbled, and burned, the pieces of the puzzle weren't together, didn't even seem to fit. All this time he saw parts of it and was always so confused because in _his_ memories, Ocella left, but he could not say this. And you all said he was dead and so he was very confused. All this time you thought Ocella was really dead. But he just tricked you all…"

Then she started laughing again even though she was still afraid. Bitterly, she said,

"Ocella lives. You celebrated Gunnar's death, not his. This is certain."

The four of them stood in stunned silence, literally open-mouthed.

Andor looked doubtful.

"When did this happen? Where?"

"In 1819? On an island in Denmark. Funen? You brought Markus from Hamburg. He was bound to you. You chose him because he was handsome but dark. Ocella didn't like dark as much. He would leave him alone more likely. You didn't want to do anything really bad. You weren't _so_ immoral. You wouldn't let Ocella play with him. He was a tool, a weapon, but treated gently."

Andor looked utterly dumbstruck.

After a minute in which he tried to regroup his thoughts, Eric turned to them and said,

"This information- her ability- does not leave this room. I'll personally stake anyone who even speaks of it."

He turned to her. She seemed still absorbed in Markus' mind, whispering things to him.

_Let Markus go, Lover. Let him go._

He stood silently staring at her, his hand over his mouth. She did not respond.

_I said let him GO! _he shouted at her mentally.

She hissed angrily at him and took a swing at him for yelling at her. He caught her arm at the wrist and held it. But Markus snapped back to awareness and looked over at Andor, questioningly. Then he suddenly looked very taken aback, and stared off into space, shaking his head.

Eric seemed rooted in place, lost for a moment in his thoughts, holding her arm in an unyielding grip. She said she hated him. He could barely even control her and she was only newly risen. She could glamour, read and therefore potentially even control vampires hundreds of years older than she was. And topping it all, his sire had never died.

_Very difficult?_

She will forgive me, he told himself. Hunter saw it. That much, he would tell me. He would not tell me that it would all end well, but he did not discourage me, either. He loves her and would never let her come to significant harm. She has forgiven Pam already. She will forgive Hunter. She will forgive me, he assured himself. Because how could he ever keep her safe from harm if she didn't forgive him, trust him?

And Ocella? If he _had _escaped them, where the hell had he gone?


	3. Chapter 3

**III.**

Andor, Stefan and Cadel were lost in processing the information about Ocella.

Markus was slow to recover from the disorienting effects of having his memories literally reprocessed for him. He'd come back to being conscious remembering what _she_ had seen, after she had rapidly put together the pieces of the jigsaw puzzle in his mind for him, leaving him with memories now pieced together in a way that shocked him. She had whispered soothing thoughts to him, trying to set him at ease. But still... For the first time, he saw it all as a whole.

He had _failed_. For two hundred years they all thought he had done his bidding and he had actually failed. But at the same time, he also felt different than he had in the entire time he had been undead. She had restored something in him. Repaired it. Something damaged by Ocella that had even survived Andor's turning him. Ocella's glamour had damaged his mind, his memories, and even after turning him, Andor had kept him close and not released him because his whole affect had been oddly flattened. He could work and fight but he didn't seem to have any initiative. He lacked some essential will. They kept him for what they thought he had done, or even just because of how he had been used. Andor had protected him, never abused him, never even allowed Ocella to abuse him, claiming that he was Andor's and not to be loaned. She had seen these things and had given them back to him, in a whole, meticulously restored vision, while simultaneously undoing whatever it was that Ocella had set into his human mind that had so confused him about his past and what had happened that night long ago, as well as seeming to steal his volition. And she'd done it in a matter of minutes. It was… stunning. He felt as if he had been a room that had fallen into shadow and she'd come in and let light back in.

All the while Pam sat silently on the edge of the bed, wondering about Sookie's telepathic abilities. Because it certainly looked like she and Eric were having some whole other conversation… well, _argument_, in addition to whatever it was that they were saying out loud. She handed her the glassful of blood, which she took almost greedily, even though she'd already had so much. She reached out to brush some of Sookie's hair out of her face and was now less concerned when Sookie hissed at her and batted her hand away. She was lost in a sea of anger and feelings of betrayal. But that would have to ebb with time, she told herself. It had to. She had been such a gentle soul even if she had always been so brave. And now she was simply amazing. She could glamour _vampires. _Also on the positive side, Pam knew for certain that she was not her really her sire, which relieved her of an immense burden. It was merely a technicality that she was the sire. It seemed sort of like Eric was, but even Eric couldn't entirely control her. But he was already used to that. Still, the whole business was rather odd.

On a selfish level, Pam was thrilled that it appeared that Sookie had actually forgiven her and that she didn't have to take charge of her. Sookie blamed Eric for keeping her. But what did she expect? Did she think that either one of them could have borne it to actually just cremate her as if it was nothing? Decapitate her? Who was she kidding? She wasn't permanently dead and all bets were off. Sookie found it hard to stay angry at anyone she loved for very long, anyway. And there was nothing but time ahead of her now to get over things. So this was good. Even if she was very angry, she still seemed to be enough of herself to have felt badly for Stefan and Cadel with whatever it was that she saw in their minds, especially Stefan. What _had_ she seen in Stefan's mind? Stefan, who was so gentle… Well, that could be determined later. And the business from Markus? Well, that clearly had much bigger implications. But still, focusing on the immediate, she would forgive them all. Although, she was pretty damn angry. That was quite evident. Perhaps she could be encouraged to tone it down just a bit where Eric was concerned. It was hardly fair to blame him to such an extent. And they certainly couldn't have her behaving this way in public.

Angry at him or not, though, Eric still had been able to draw out some of what she could do. What she could do was dangerous. It seemed that she could telepathically read, either through glamour or direct reading, vampire minds. This would not win her many fans. Clearly, she could also communicate with at least Eric, telepathically. But could she still read _humans_? She reflected on Stan's loss of human telepathy, only able to send and not even receive the thoughts of other vampires. Clearly there was not going to be much _safe _use for going around glamouring other vampires and reading their minds. It was not a skill that going to win them many friends. But the human telepathy had been important. Important to their security and to her livelihood. She took her cell phone out of her pocket and called someone who owed her more than a few favors and who would be a totally safe bet.

Eric asked her, "Who are you calling?"

Without answering directly, she replied "I just want to see something."

Eric stood silently watching Sookie drink the blood. She was very pink and robust looking. But she didn't even want to look at him. She hit at Pam again for trying to touch her hair. At one point she even growled at her. She was so wild and angry. She'd always had such a temper. At present, she was just consumed with her anger. It would take careful management. Still, even with all the anger, however, he could feel glimmers of her true nature and was sure it would just take a bit of time. The way she'd spoken to Cadel, looked at Stefan or even whatever it was that she'd done with Markus, showed that she still was herself. She felt for them, even if she had said she hated all of them. Clearly she did not hate them.

A few minutes later there was a knock on the door. Stefan looked puzzled to let Ruben inside the room. Pam rose and guided him over toward Sookie. Carefully placing herself between Sookie and Ruben, she said softly,

"Sookie, Ruben is here to see you. I thought you would want to say hello to him. Ruben, thank you for all the blood. You'd be astonished at how much she's drinking compared to what a trial it was to get her to eat as a human. It's simply delightful."

She leaned forward and whispered to Sookie,

"And… while we're at it, can you still read Ruben's thoughts?" No point in beating around the bush, she thought to herself.

Sookie looked up from her glass of blood, her eyes going into an intense blue as she regarded Ruben with a laser-like stare then looked away from him. Ruben was in a relatively small space with seven vampires, one of whom had risen just a few hours before and had proceeded to scream, for almost a solid hour, loudly enough to be heard two floors below. Even though he'd always genuinely liked her, he couldn't wait to get out of the room.

"Let him leave. You are frightening him. He is afraid of me. Let him go away, Pam."

"Mrs. Northman," ventured Ruben, trying to steel himself. "I'm not afraid." He hesitated then said softly, "If you have a preference yet, I'd be happy to order up more. Real O negative is hard to get but I know Dr. Ludwig can get O and A positive pretty easily and even AB negative if you like to try that. I'm so glad to see you are going to be okay. I kept you in my prayers."

She glanced back at him with eyes gone hard and replied with a snort,

"Perhaps you'd like to pray harder that I'll _really_ die then, Ruben."

Eric snapped his fingers and gestured to Pam that Ruben should leave. Pam guided him to the door and after quickly murmuring a few words, he left the room with a slightly blank look on his face, no longer remembering clearly what he'd seen or heard.

Eric stood over her, glaring, while she finished the glass of blood and steadfastly refused to look up at him.

_Stop saying that bullshit. Enough already. You are staying like this, with us and you _will _be happy like this, Sookie. You will adjust and be happy.  
_

_You won't tell me what to say or think or do or feel. You never have and you never will. I'll never let you and if you don't like it, you should kill me now or let me kill myself as I wish, _ she said, mentally, with a snarling face. _Because I hate you and I hate being this way because of you. Because of you and your empty promises. Or should I just call them lies? __I'll never be happy because of you. _

She started to open her mouth as if to speak.

_Not another _word _Sookie!_

With an openly angry expression on his own face, he scooped her up and left Pam's room with her. She kicked, screamed, hissed and clawed at him, as he carried her toward their room. He dropped her to her feet, pressing her flat against the wall with his body, while he unlocked the door via the scanner. She resisted entering the room, grabbing onto the frame of the door, the door itself and finally even bit his shoulder through his shirt as he half lifted, half dragged her inside.

_Stop it! Just stop it! I don't want to hurt you_. _Stop fighting. You cannot possibly win in a physical match against me, Sookie. So stop fighting me. You'll just end up hurting yourself._

_Don't touch me! Don't you dare touch me!_ She flailed and twisted as if in a panic as she tried to bolt for the door. _Let me go! Let me go back to Pam!_

He ignored her as he half-dragged and half-carried her toward the bathroom. He yanked the nightgown off her as she struggled to avoid his touch and then pushed her into the shower. He turned on the shower and removed the flexible corded showerhead from the wall and wet her down, once the water was warm. He put the showerhead back up.

_You have dried blood in your hair. Wash your hair. Clean yourself up. You will feel better._

She stood in the warm water and looking as if straining against something, finally closing her eyes and almost trembling, but still totally alert, fingers outstretched but poised as if to scratch at him, her hands shaking. He stood just outside the shower stall. She looked as if she was ready to fend off his touching her, tense, almost as if anticipating that he would attack her when he leaned into the stall. Instead, he reached past her and then handed her shampoo. Her knuckles were white as she gripped the bottle of shampoo.

_Wash your hair, _he said firmly. _You will feel better if you take care of yourself._

He walked farther away and leaned against the edge of the bathroom counter. It was then that she opened her eyes, which glowed copper and quickly faded toward blue. She still regarded him hostilely however, with eyes glowing faintly.

Finally, she began to shampoo her hair. Then she examined the area just above her breast where the knife had stabbed her as if remembering that the wound, now gone, had been there. It looked, then, as if she was crying while the water flowed onto her head. He looked away for a moment, working his jaw as he ground his teeth. Three nights later and it was still hard to accept. She had been murdered because she believed vampires should have rights? That's what her killer had told the FBI and the police. They hated her because she represented the unraveling of their discrimination. And now she was one of them. He looked back at her. She stood pressed into the corner of the stall, her face pressed against the smooth granite walls, crying. It was so painful to watch…

When she finished the shower he handed her a towel. He tried to dry her back but she ducked away from him. He handed her her bathrobe. He offered her an extra towel for her hair. Instead of accepting it she stood in front of the mirror and ran a comb through her wet hair. He stood behind her.

She looked at him warily.

_Don't touch me. Don't you dare touch me!_

He sighed, raising his hands so she could see them.

"I will not touch you unless you wish it. I will not hurt you. I love you."

"If you really loved me you would have let me die. Or you'd let me die now. This is just ownership, possessiveness, not love. You think you own me, but you never will."

He visibly winced, and looked away, not responding. She continued.

"You lied. You lied to me. And I'll never forgive you. I hate you for it. For your lies and your trickery. The first chance I get, I'm going to be up on that roof to see the sunrise. You stole ten years of my life, my death. I'll take it back. And you won't stop me."

"Sookie, please. Please, stop saying that. I forbid you to harm yourself. Do you hear me? Are you listening? I _forbid_ it."

She walked out of the bathroom and started laughing at him in a wild fashion. He grabbed her arm roughly, spinning her around and then grabbing her by the shoulders. She winced, and cried out slightly and he lessened his grip.

"If you're going to hurt me, why not just kill me? Why not? I'll never be compelled by you. It didn't work before and it won't work now. Kill me. Kill me now and save yourself time and trouble. Or let me go and I'll do it myself. Just let me go."

"I cannot do that."

"Coward. Selfish bastard. _Liar,_" she hissed.

He dropped his hold on her and glanced away, closing his eyes. How was he going to reason with her? What if she really did try to harm herself? He turned back to her, his face looking almost mask-like.

"I will make you an offer. Give it a year. A full year from tonight. You must promise you will not try to harm yourself, put an end yourself. If you are still unhappy after a year, it will be as you wish."

"And I should trust your word this time exactly _why_?"

"I did _not_ break my word to you. I did not turn you. I did not ask anyone else to turn you. As Pam has told you, it was a mistake on her part."

"But you let me survive this way. Knowing I did not want it. You have broken your word and no matter what _lies _you tell yourself or me, that is a fact."

"I did not make you this way, or have you made. But I will not, _cannot_, just discard you like refuse when you are a walking and talking person, Sookie! A person to whom I am _married_, I might add. I just _won't_! And I never gave you my word about any such situation, so don't you _dare_ call me a liar. I have _not_ lied to you!" he shouted. He closed his eyes grasping for calm, and said, "I want you. I love you. I have to believe that you can be happy, in spite of what has happened. Give it time."

"I was murdered and betrayed and I will be happy? _Really?_ The roof at dawn would make me happy," she hissed.

"The roof at dawn is _not_ an option! You are upset and angry and you will get past this. What happened is horrible, but you _will_ get past it. You will adjust, as have we all."

"Murdered by some fanatic I can take. Will I ever get past hating you for betraying me and breaking your word to me? I'm supposed to just hang around for all time now? Is that it? I think not."

He closed his eyes and clenched his jaw trying to control his anger and tamp it down as low as he could get it. He opened his eyes again and looked at her flushed cheeks and her angrily glowing eyes.

"I have _not_ betrayed you. Are you interested in my offer or not? One year, and then you are free to do as you wish. If you say no, I'll have no other option than to have someone with you at all times. And you hated that when you were alive, so I'm going to assume you will hate it now."

As he spoke, she had edged closer to him. Her nostrils flared slightly as she seemed to inhale his scent. She was so much less shaky after all the blood than a new vampire normally would be, so graceful and sinuous in her movements. She was hungry, but clearly no longer hungry for blood. He looked at her as she traced her eyes over his mouth, then his frame from his chest, down to his crotch where her eyes lingered and her pupils widened. He could feel her quickly edging into that other lust and it looked like she was on the verge of having it spin out of control. He wanted to make his ground rules quite clear and try to keep her focused. He stepped back away from her and crossed his arms.

"My offer has terms."

"What terms?" she asked as she instantly snapped her eyes back up to his.

"You cannot seek to end your existence. You will swear your fealty to me like any other subject. You cannot feed from human donors without one of us with you, to prevent your harming anyone. In the beginning it is hard to stop when you start to feed and you must be supervised. And specifically, in your case, you cannot glamour any vampire, without permission, unless it is for some self-defensive purpose."

"That's all?" she said as her eyes again began to drift over his form.

"You remember your vows, Sookie?"

She gave him a dark and silent look through her eyelashes.

"You are _mine_, Sookie. I remember what it is like to be new. Everything feels different, more intense, exciting. There are many attractions, distractions. And it is easy to get confused with sensation seeking and sexual invitation. You gave me a vow of fidelity when we married. If you expect me to hold to my vows, you must hold to yours."

Her eyes narrowed as she looked back up at his face.

"So you think I will just fuck everyone here to get back at you?"

Eric met her eyes. "No. But I want you to stop and think before you act. Because I expect fidelity. Is that absolutely clear?"

"One year? And those are the terms?"

"Yes."

"And you swear that you would even kill me yourself if I wish it?" she said looking at him with eyes that glowed like hot metal.

He gritted his teeth and felt himself tighten inside.

"If that is your wish, at the end of one full year, yes."

She dropped hard to her knees on the wooden floor and bowed her head to him. He winced at the sound of her knees hitting the floor.

"I swear fealty to you, to your vampires. I accept your terms." She looked up and met his eyes in a defiant manner. "In return, in one year, you will let me meet the sun."

Looking down at her stonily, he said soberly, "I certainly hope not."

She looked down again and gasped softly.

"I do not even know how I will stand it for that long. If you really loved me at all, let me go to the roof at dawn. Because I ask you to let me." She looked up at him, pleadingly.

"No. No, I wouldn't. And you've just sworn to me that you will not do that. Just you remember that. If I really love you, I'll put up with this shit until you come to your senses and get past your anger over the fact that you were murdered and that Pam, in trying to help you, miscalculated. You'll come to your senses and realize that you are happy to still be here, and with people who love you, even if it isn't how you were before."

"No matter what happened to me, no matter who did what, the only reason I'm here and that I'm like this, exactly as I did not wish to be, is because of you. And don't think I'll _ever_ forget it."

She rose, looking at him with loathing and walked away without reply, toward her rooms. He followed after her at a distance. Rosie was walking from her dayroom toward her in the library with her tail up high, in friendly greeting. But as she reached Sookie and sniffed at her hand she pulled back with flattened ears and spat at her. She lowered her tail and then ran back to the dayroom and under the daybed. At that, Sookie sank to the library floor, on her knees. He caught her as she doubled over sobbing and wailing. He held her, rocking her, as she cried for hours and until she collapsed with the coming dawn. He carried her back to the bed and put her in it, covering her with the comforter as she had so often covered him. He held her hand and looked at her with a feeling of immense sadness.

The pleasure of having her longer was almost bled dry by her cutting words. He had broken the spirit of his word to her, even if he could twist things just like a fairy and say he hadn't broken his promise. Cremation? Decapitation? It was simply not possible for him, or for Pam to do so. In spite of his not so quiet stance, he doubted even Cadel would have been able to do away with her. How could they and how could she expect that they could? Surely she would see that… she would have to see it, in time.

He had a year to convince her. It would be more than enough.

Hunter saw it. He had never been wrong. She will forgive me, he told himself. She will be happy.

As he settled in the bed he pulled her into his arms. He missed her warmth. But not just the warmth of her flesh… The warmth of feeling loved. The searing cold of her words stayed with him past the dawn.

**

* * *

**

She once again awoke ravenous. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, with four bottles of True Blood already warm. He had risen early to get the blood ready for her. She grabbed the bottles and drank greedily. He reached out to stroke her hair and she ducked way from his touch.

_Don't touch me. I hate you. I hate you for letting me be like this. I hate the _hunger_. I hate everything about being this way._

"You will get used to it and you will not hate it. Some things you may even enjoy a great deal."

"What can I possibly enjoy about having no choices? About never seeing sunshine? This was done to you, to all of you, and you just forgot what it's like? What was taken from you?"

"I remember what it is to make the best of my circumstances. And I see how comparatively fortunate your circumstances are to those seen by most of the rest of us."

_What I think is 'making the best' you will not let me do…_

He didn't reply while she drank more. After a moment he said,

"Sookie, you can still read humans, right? You still read Ruben last night?"

"Am I still useful to you with the humans? Is that what you want to know?"

He sighed.

"I was more concerned with the idea that Hunter says he will be home tomorrow night. He is leaving Magnolia early tomorrow morning and driving straight back. If you cannot read humans I should warn him out of kindness. The loss will be a blow to him. Because I'm assuming that he won't be able to read you."

She stiffened.

"But I don't want him to see me like this."

"He already knows. That's why he's coming back early. We thought you wouldn't want him to see you as you were last night. But now he wants to see you."

"I don't care. I don't want him to see me this way."

_Are you ashamed of being like me?_

_I am ashamed that I told him he could trust all of you. I going to make sure he stays as far away from all of you as he can get._

"Don't you be cruel about Hunter, Lover. Don't."

"Don't call me that. Don't talk to me like nothing has changed between us. Everything has changed. Everything."

He looked at her and stroked her hair, even after she batted his hand away several times.

"My feelings for you will never change. In spite of all the anger, you are still in there. You are still you. Do not try to be cruel to me about Hunter. He will not like it if you are," he said quietly.

She grabbed his hand to pull it away from her hair and then suddenly she bit his wrist. In spite of himself he shivered with pleasure as she drew his blood and did not pull it away from her right away. He pulled her closer and kissed her, tasting his own blood in her mouth. He kissed her tenderly but then she pulled him closer and kissed him more roughly. She kicked away the comforter and pulled him on top of her. She continued to kiss him voraciously and then grabbed his butt pulling him toward her. He pushed himself away from her.

"Slow down. Are you sure this is what you want? Look at how you feel. You are very angry. You say you hate me. Why would you want this now, Sookie?"

"Fuck me. I want you to fuck me."

"Well, I'd love to, but I'm not sure _you_ really want me to. And I don't want you telling me later that I raped you. Tell me why you want me to. Tell me why."

She froze.

_I just… I want to._

_Ah yes... I'm sure you want to fuck. I'm very familiar with the feeling. But why, if you hate me, do you want to fuck me? Isn't that a bit odd? Think about it._

She grabbed at him again.

_I just want it. I want you to fuck me._

He shook his head and spoke out loud,

"Well… I can't do that. I'm sorry. If you could even just tell me it would make you feel better, maybe I could. But what you say isn't rational. I'm telling you, you need to be careful to analyze your impulses when you are like this. You have to get used to it. And to make sure no one around you takes advantage of it, leading you on a path that isn't really yours. As Freud would say, it's all _id_ right now. Don't let it rule you, Lover, or you won't be happy where it leads you. Stop and _think_ before you act."

She seemed to reflect but wouldn't let go of him.

_I hate you. I really hate you. But I just want to… This isn't me! What is wrong with me? This isn't me… Omigod what is wrong with me!_

Then she started to cry. He cradled her in his arms and rocked her. She let him hold her again, to comfort her, as she had the night before. From somewhere deep in his past he sang her a lullaby he had sung to his children when their mother had died. It was a sad-sounding but soothing song.

"I love you," he whispered to her. "I love you, even if you hate me right now, Sookie. This will pass. Trust me. This will pass. You will be happy again. You have to believe me." He kissed her forehead. She was relaxed and still in his arms as he continued to rock her for several minutes, murmuring against her forehead.

She raised her head and kissed him, much more tenderly this time. In a familiar series of moves, she brushed his hair back from his face and looked at him then kissed him again while her hands pulled his hips toward her own and she shifted herself under him. He moaned and let his hands caress her breasts, her hips and her inner thighs as she spread her legs for him. He hesitated and looked at her, at her eyes glowing red. She pulled him toward her again and his fingers found his way inside her. She stroked his penis firmly, kissing his throat, rubbing her fangs against it.

"Please," she said softly. "I just… need it."

He groaned as she guided him into her and his head arched back as he cried out and then moved suddenly downward as he sank his teeth into her neck and tasted her newly cold blood. He thrust into her and they moved together in a harsher rhythm than that which he had known from before. It quickly felt wild, almost uncontrolled. They thrashed and bit at each other several times, finally seemingly just lost in one another, roiling in the bed and out of it.

Two hours later he laid her gently back onto the bed and tried to pull away from her.

"We need to stop, Sookie. Stop," he said softly.

She didn't want to stop. She grabbed onto him, trying to hold him, pulling him back inside her.

_It is enough, Lover. You need to stop._

_I don't want to stop._

"Which is why you need to stop. It's wonderful but there have to be limits. I need to work and really, you need to stop. There is more than just this. You're using it to avoid having to deal with adjusting to things. There is more than lust and anger in you. You need to find it or you _won't_ be happy."

She tightened her grip on him but he extricated himself after a brief struggle. He rose from the bed. She growled angrily.

_I hate you._

He sighed. "We should shower." He offered her his hand. She stared at it and then looked up at him angrily, with glowing eyes.

"What will you do if I fuck someone else?"

His eyes widened and he sharply withdrew his hand and recoiled as if she had struck him. He clenched his jaw.

"I _forbid_ it! And you have already given me your word. Don't you _dare_ make threats to me! Shower and be dressed before I leave the room. I'm not leaving you alone in here. You will stay with Pam tonight while I work. Get moving. Use the bathroom on your side. Stay out of my way_. _Do _not _leave our rooms without me_._"

After staring at her for a tense moment, his eyes glowing red in anger, he turned and walked away from her. He slammed the door to his bathroom.

She sat in the bed, with a single tear running down her face as she touched the spot he had occupied in the bed moments before. She loved him. But love was intertwined with so much anger. So much pain, confusion…

_I hate being like this. This isn't me. I hate myself. I want to die._

There was only silence.

* * *

[_2]_

Six hours later, after Pam failed to answer her cell phone, Andor found her glamoured in her office. Eric read the note twice and then folded it and placed it in his desk drawer and locked the drawer.

----- ∞ -----

_Eric,_

_Your offer did not specify that I had to spend the year with you. Right now, I just feel like the anger I feel inside me will tear everyone and everything that I have loved apart. I am hurting you, and I'm afraid to be this way around Hunter. It makes me feel desperate. So I have glamoured her in self-defense because I will find a way to end things myself before a year is up if I do not leave this place, and all of you. Right now. Tonight. I gave you my word not to harm myself. This is my only choice in order to keep it._

_She will be released at 5 am. I tried it twice to make sure she would be okay and awake on her own. She should remember that I glamoured her and that she tried to stop me. She was so afraid she could hurt me. Please do not hold my leaving against her. It was not her fault._

_Tell Hunter I love him and that I am so very sorry._

_I don't hate you. I hate myself. But I will uphold the agreement. I gave you my word._

_Sookie_

----- ∞ -----

The following night he showed the note to Hunter, whose eyes filled with tears. His chin trembled as he handed it back to Eric. He looked him directly in the eyes and said,

"She will come back. It will not be as long as the last time. I… I know it must upset you very much that she did this again."

"You knew she would leave." It was a statement, not even a question.

Hunter nodded silently as the tears streamed down his cheeks and he looked down.

Eric slammed his open hand on the desk, making Hunter jump.

"_Dammit Hunter!_ We can't find her! She took her passport, IDs and her personal bankcards. The only thing I know is that there was activity on her Swiss bank accounts but then she changed all the passwords and I can't access them anymore and even Cadel can't hack into them. So I can't find her. Do you _know_ where she is? And why the hell didn't you tell me she would leave, Hunter? Do you have _any_ idea how dangerous it is for her to be on her own? Especially given what she can do?"

Hunter, still looking down, shook his head and took a moment to try to recover himself.

"I simply cannot believe that you allowed this to happen. I simply _cannot_! I've had a hard enough time accepting that you knew that she'd die. But this? You _tell_ me how you knew this and said nothing. How!?"

Hunter flinched and looked wide-eyed at Eric's angry and glowing eyes. He looked away and shivered. Finally, after a long shuddering sigh, he looked up and said,

"I couldn't, Uncle Eric. I'm sorry. I couldn't tell either one of you anything. And I was afraid to come back before she… I just couldn't face her yet. Couldn't face her knowing that I knew. And maybe it would have changed things for the worse if I was here, or even if I told you I thought she would leave. Do you remember long ago when you showed me how to play chess? Remember how I tried to make moves based on what you would have done in the future but then doing that changed everything? What I see, _as_ I have seen it, turns out okay. If I had told you what would happen, perhaps things would have changed. Perhaps changed for the worse. She might have died for good. Or you might have forced her to stay, and that might have been a disaster. So I couldn't tell you because it would change the board. I really saw it like a game of chess. The King needed to stay where he was. The Queen needed to be free to move. Besides, it is her… process. It always has been. Aunt Sookie hates dealing with painful things head on. She always has. She doesn't deal with things head on until they get really bad." He paused, looking truly anguished as he spoke. "She keeps her word to you. I've _seen_ it. I've seen her coming home. The two of you will be together. She will be happy this way, but it will take some time. I see it. I _believe_ what I see. She will return. She will be better than good. Something about her surprises you. All of you. I saw it," he said in a choked voice. "I have to believe it. I have to."

Then he hung his head and openly cried, looking less like a man and more like a heartbroken child.

Eric looked at him, recognizing on some level, no matter how raw and stung and angry he felt himself, that Hunter, too, was left behind. Sookie was his world and he had been willing to let her leave without revealing anything because he believed it was the right thing to do. Even carrying the burden of having seen that this would happen to her, that she would literally be murdered and never telling anyone because he believed the outcome would be alright? _How hard would that be?_ He asked himself. He had trusted that she would return and that it would all work out. That it would work out _well_.

Even so, Eric felt so resentful of her leaving yet again. She had _always_ run away when things were bad, run away in one way or another, either literally or mentally. It was her process, to shut him out and try to deal with things entirely on her own. But it cut him to the bone. Well, when she came back, it was going to be the very last time she was operating this way.

His mind churned with thoughts about what her departure would mean. How was he supposed to handle all the questions that her disappearance would entail? The police, the AVL, the media? Even just among his people? In the end he was sure it could all be managed. No, the real issue, if he was honest with himself was being left again, a second time. Now, so much harder to accept than that other time, long ago. Much more public, much more personal. Before she had come to harm because he hadn't insisted on protecting her. And this time? This time in addition to not having provided sufficient protection, she thought he had betrayed her, had broken his word to her. Maybe he really had… even though he felt it was his only choice.

He thought of the other vampires he knew who had been capable of glamouring. Killed. Both killed. He would have to hope that these were safer times and that Hunter's vision was fixed by having let things evolve as he'd seen them.

"She will be safe and come back," Eric said hoarsely. It wasn't a question.

Hunter looked up at him through his tears and nodded. "She will, Uncle Eric. And she will be happy again. Honestly, she has every right to blame me not you. Because I _saw_ it. I knew it. I knew she'd be turned," he said in a whisper. "I knew it for _years_. And I thought it was much better than losing her. I already lost my mother once. I wasn't going to lose her, too. This was a way to keep her."


	4. Chapter 4

**IV.**

Even in the darkest hour, you shine.

~ Charlotte Martin

**Friday, December 18, 2020**

363. 51.

It was the third Friday of December when she gracefully alighted on the red carpet on the walkway, startling the guards at the entry and striding without comment through the entrance. A hush of silence followed her as she went through the detectors, brushed by the bowing figures and headed for the second floor stairs. She heard the rush of thoughts and voices behind her, and someone calling upstairs, sounding almost excited.

The slender woman who strode through the halls bore only a passing resemblance to sunny Sookie Northman. She was now dressed all in black, in leather pants, leather jacket. A thin black leather choker, lariat-style, hung from her neck. A carved turquoise talisman at the end of the leather strip was the only spot of color and it echoed her bright blue eyes. The only other jewelry she wore was a ring on her left hand. Her hair was tied back in a ponytail, wrapped tightly with a criss-crossing black leather strand. The soft black leather boots made no sound as she walked. The vampires she passed in the halls drew back and let her pass, nodding and bowing to her. She nodded without smiling to Cadel, as she settled herself on the couch in the great room and simply waited. Cadel just stared at her. She actually exuded quiet and confident power. She glowed with it. Eric would be pleased when he saw how well she looked. Yet she seemed so cool and distant.

Cadel studied her a moment longer, as she sat on the edge of the couch, hand with fingers interlaced in her lap, legs outstretched and crossed at the ankles. She was utterly still. She met no one with her eyes. She was totally self-contained. Perhaps she was just nervous, he thought to himself? It didn't matter. She was home and it would all be sorted after Eric had seen her. He passed through the door of the audience room.

Within moments the door to the audience room opened sharply and Eric stood in the doorway, in a beautiful charcoal gray suit with a lilac shirt and dark tie. His hair was tied back. Wordlessly she rose, briefly met his eyes and then bowed her head. He stood there and just stared at her.

She had come back. It was two nights from the one year mark. She had come back and she bowed her head to him in deference. When she raised her head, she did not meet his eyes again but he felt a rush of energy from her, a subtle reconnection. And then it was withdrawn. She looked solemn, still, and did not smile. His eyes skimmed over all of her. She looked elegant. Powerful. But, he noted with a catch in his heart, she seemed as she had once long, long ago, so… _resigned_ to something. Gone was that sunny expression, the playfulness and humor. The inner fire seemed remote, buried. There was something… so completely closed off about her, he thought. Yet at the same time she gave off this peculiar aura, much larger, much older than she was…

"Tell them the meeting is canceled. Offer my apologies. And call Hunter," he murmured quietly to Stefan.

He walked out into the great room and signaling with a gesture of his head that she should follow, he turned toward the door to the hall that led to his office. All eyes in the room followed them. She wordlessly trailed after him, down the halls to his office. He closed and locked the door behind them.

He gestured that she should sit across from him at his desk, which she did. He did not sit down himself however and, uncharacteristically, he paced.

"I was in Paris," she said, without waiting for him to ask.

He started and glanced away for a moment. Surprising.

"The _whole_ year? You cannot tell me that Eduard Delatour never got wind of your being there for a whole year. Or did he just lie to us?" There was a hitch in his voice as he thought of what Delatour was actually like and what it might mean if he had been hiding her. He mentally flashed on an argument with Andor about fidelity and Andor's thoughts that she had left him and he was free to indulge as he wished. He glanced over at the wall near the bookcase as he flexed his hand with his back to her. The hole in the wall had only recently been repaired. Andor had been quite fast that time, actually. He snapped himself back to the present. He preferred to listen to facts instead of worrying about possibilities.

As if having taken in the entire matter in the blink of an eye she said quietly,

"I glamoured him. Specifically, so that he would no longer recognize my presence in Paris as problematic and his people would let me alone. If you asked him or his immediate crew anything, he would likely say he had never even seen me."

"You did _what_?" His mind started rapidly formulating questions. Did she just say she'd broken their agreement? How far had she strayed, then, from the other terms…? And how _old_ was Delatour? Was she serious? She'd glamoured him? _Why?_

She sighed as if annoyed.

"You want the gory details? Fine. He had me picked up and brought in to him three days after I arrived. He didn't know who I was and I certainly wasn't going to tell him. I used my grandmother's maiden name and my middle name when I was in Paris. I was Marie Hale. His people were very rough and rude bringing me to him. He himself propositioned me in an absolutely lascivious fashion. He is simply a dis_gust_ing person. I found his manner, especially when I explained that I belonged, even legally, to someone else, extremely offensive. He didn't care about the details of my personal life, he said. He just wanted me to have sex with him. And he planned to rape me if I wouldn't willingly have sex with him. So I glamoured him. To keep myself safe. He gave me no further trouble after that and kept others away from me as well. He told everyone I was to be let alone and then pretty much forgot I existed."

He stared at her.

"You glamoured him? _Eduard Delatour?_ Are you serious?" He tried to absorb the idea. Because Delatour was a _very_ powerful vampire. "I don't even know how old he is but I know he's substantially older than I am. But more than that, he's very powerful, Sookie. He _planned_ to rape you?"

"He thought sex was his due, since I didn't have his 'permission' to be in La Belle Paris," she said snidely and with very evident distaste.

"He told you this? Or you know this because…?"

At that, she glanced up at him briefly, practically rolling her eyes, as if he was an utter moron.

"Gee, because I'm a _telepath_? Or how about because he had his hands all over me and was pushing me into a bedroom with a double-sided lock on the door and took the key? He's a _disgusting_ person. He's somewhere around 1750 years old. Really old. He was so unbelievably strong. The ability to glamour was the only weapon I had. Our agreement was for self-defense. So I _defended _myself." She glanced up at him. "Did you know that Delatour is not even his real name? He stole the identity of someone he killed in the 1600's. He isn't even really French at all. He's a pretender. He's actually from the Caucuses. But yes, he's very old. And a real creep. I should have glamoured him into being impotent or something _really_ useful. He certainly deserved it. But I figured it was a bit beyond what I'd agreed to with you and it might have made him cruel out of his own frustration not to indulge in his favorite pastime. So I didn't do it. But I wanted to. You have _no_ _idea_ how much I wanted to. I despise him, and his positively medieval attitude about women."

He was rather amused by this explanation, which sounded very much like something the old Sookie Stackhouse whom he loved would say, not the cold, angry vampire who had repeatedly said she hated him almost a year before… He tried not to smile.

"Well, for the record, I have never liked Delatour and I agree with you about his take on women and his poor attitude to guests in general. That's why when we were on our honeymoon I left Markus with you and went to say my hellos without you. And a good thing, too, because I don't like to think what he might have done with you if he knew you were my wife. He would have used you to extract who knows what from me to get you back and he really might have harmed you just to put one over on me. I was worried even having Stefan inquire about a blonde female vampire in Paris. What you did was very dangerous, going off like you did, Sookie."

"I quickly realized that. I stayed mostly on my own, everywhere I went. I avoided vampires as much as possible after that."

"You were really in Paris the entire time?" he still just couldn't believe it. She had been incredibly elusive if so. And a good thing, because it probably kept her much safer.

"No. I traveled occasionally. And this entire past month I have been in South America."

Eric looked at her, puzzled. Europe had seemed her likely location since she had taken her passport. She'd loved Paris, so at least that he could understand. Why not go to someplace that she'd been happy? He'd had Stefan discreetly ask around to see if anyone in Paris had seen her. Or London. Or Madrid. Or Rome. Or Geneva or Zurich. They asked without luck and eventually, quietly, Stefan and Cadel, along with Hunter, had persuaded him that she clearly did not _wish_ to be found. If Hunter knew where she was he was very convincing saying he didn't know. But then perhaps if she had been peripatetic, he couldn't have been certain. Her financial accounts in Switzerland had been inaccessible but they had thought she must have been in Europe. She had enough in those accounts to live very well, indefinitely. But why South America?

"Why on earth did you go to South America?"

She withdrew a small envelope from the pocket of her leather jacket. It was not flat. She handed it to him with great solemnity.

He took it and looked at it, puzzled.

"What is this?" he asked.

"Your anniversary present," she said softly without meeting his eyes.

He stiffened and lowered it slightly as he stared down at her, looking very remote and guarded.

"Your _wedding_ anniversary present," she quickly clarified.

His entire expression changed, lightened slightly. But he still looked apprehensive. Her manner made it seem as if this was something momentous. She saw him briefly glance at her left hand, as if assuring himself again that she wasn't giving back her wedding ring. Other than her face, it was the first thing that he'd noticed when he'd entered the great room as she stood before him then bowed her head. She still wore her wedding ring. A good sign.

"Should I open it now or do you want me to wait until the 25th?"

"You can open it now. I'm sure you'll want to share it."

More puzzled than ever, he tore open the envelope and spilled a gold ring, in the bright, beaten gold color of another era, into his hand. Puzzled, he examined it and then, with a short gasp, sank into his desk chair looking completely dumbfounded. The ring he held in his hand bore a well-worn phrase in Latin. _Civis Romanus Sum_. 'I am a Roman citizen.' He had seen it many times before.

"Where did you get this?" he asked looking up at her and sounding very shaken.

She looked him directly in the eyes.

"It was the only thing I took. I killed him on Sunday, the 13th. He was living in Buenos Aires under the name Jesús Santangelo. Great name, right? _Such_ a sense of irony the man had," she said in a tone laden with sarcasm.

He stared at her, utterly speechless.

After a full minute, she filled the cavernous silence with more information.

"Would you believe that Bill had interviewed him in Peru fifteen years ago, back when you first stayed in my house in Bon Temps? You know, when you had the amnesia? He didn't make the connection to his being your sire, though. And what a lucky thing that probably was. Still, I relished the coincidence. It really makes you believe in synchronicity. There was so much information there but Bill didn't piece it together… But anyway, the last thing he heard was your name. He screamed in such anger. It was so… _unexpected_. I think he was caught so completely off guard. I was not at all what he expected to be his end. He had held a child there. I didn't know until I was inside. Glamoured. Around 13 or 14. About the same age as Hunter was when he came to live here. I dropped the boy off at the hospital before I left, and gave him some money. He was so scarred from being bitten. And from... the other things. I wonder what will become of him. But at least he wasn't turned."

Eric swallowed, leaned forward and said in a quiet voice,

"Sookie… You're telling me that _you've_ killed Ocella? You've killed him by yourself, _on your own_?"

It was simply _inconceivable_! A less than year old vampire killing Appius Livius Ocella? A man who fought in the Roman Legion? Who had taught him, taught Andor practically everything they knew about fighting? Ocella the sadist? Ocella the consummate survivor?

She met his eyes again and then finally broke into an inscrutable smile. She cast her eyes back down

"I am glad if it pleases you. I can't say that I have ever enjoyed killing anyone or anything until him. But this was just... _so_ right. Especially when I realized he had the child there."

"How did you even _find_ him?"

"There just aren't that many Roman Legionnaire vampires, Eric. No matter how many times they change their name, their history eventually comes out and gives them away in the era of the great Compton Database. There are exactly three of record who actually fought in the Legion. And so I researched until I was sure I had found my man. I have that FBI mindset, remember? And I've always been good at detective work. It only took two months of serious effort to locate _him_, specifically, once I had all the information I required to begin. I had traced him from Odense where he left you, to France to Spain to Peru and then to Argentina. I did much research beforehand, however. To be ready for him. As to how I did it, I tracked vampires turned by vampires who dated back to Roman times until I was sure I had identified him. He created forty-seven children that I could clearly identify across Europe and Latin America, although he has also killed many of his children. Probably almost half. He had changed names five times. The most recent was really just the best, though. He was really something with the names… Anyway, it was quite the project. It kept me busy for almost my every moment of the night, most nights. It gave me a sense of purpose. Everything I have learned as a vampire I have learned to be able to find him, to kill him. And I have learned much," she finished in almost a whisper.

"How did you even get _near_ him?"

"I approached him and said that I worked as a freelance researcher for Bill, because Bill was updating the database and that he was now interested in early vampire history, connections to vampires turned well before 1000 AD, even if no longer living. It was an important historical record of our great history. I met with him three times. I offered him a free copy of the updated version of the database if he let me interview him in depth. I said it would give him the opportunity to 'reconnect with people'. He was curious about that idea, since he was still bitter about you and Andor."

She paused but he was still just silent and riveted by her words.

"You had been some of his favorites. I suppose you should count yourselves lucky. He'd killed so many of his children, but there are still quite a few of you rolling around. I found Feargus. He's in Antwerp. Hjalmar's missing. He was still in Geneva until about five years ago but then he just disappeared. Maybe he got himself killed or something. Anyway, Ocella was still quite bitter about the thing with you, Andor and Stefan. Not based on what he said but on his thoughts. I think from what I gathered he blamed Andor, mostly. Or maybe you. He couldn't decide. He didn't seem to think that you would have come up with the plan of a bound human to stake him. He was a bit surprised that Andor would, but thought it more likely than you. He knew that it was one or the other of you or maybe in the end, the both of you because there was no way that glamour job on Markus was Andor's handiwork. It was too 'refined', too hard to get around. He thought Stefan too close to breaking to have even been involved. He disregarded the thought that Cadel was behind it, even though Cadel and Stefan were so friendly. Cadel wasn't even around so far as he knew. And he didn't think Cadel would even bother to make a plan, actually. It wasn't Cadel's style. Cadel was always more spur of the moment so as not to ever get caught out. And he always fared better because after he was turned, he humored Ocella instead of fighting him directly as you and Stefan did or as Andor wished he could. It was one of the reasons that Cadel got away sooner. He wondered about Gunnar. In the end he chose to stake Gunnar rather than one of you three because he liked Gunnar less. It was a moment of real weakness on his part. Clearly realized in a flash of retrospect, as of last Sunday, anyway. His big mistake. At least in that last flash in his mind."

She paused to see if he was keeping up. He still just stared at her, speechless.

"He actually liked you and Andor, even though he was so sick and twisted about it. He really did. Well, until you tried to kill him. He was so puzzled as to why you even bothered yourselves about Stefan. It wasn't your business, and he had been enjoying himself so very much. Anyway, I glamoured him, but only a bit. I had to be subtle so I wouldn't arouse suspicion. He's the oldest vampire I've met since I was turned. I guess the oldest I've ever even seen other than the Pythoness, right? He was so powerful. Even being in the same room with him was incredible. I really had to remind myself to stay focused. He was so fascinating in a really sick kind of way. His ego was his undoing, though... He got distracted, was so flattered by my admiration of him. Taken with my knowledge of Roman history and my appreciation of him and everything he'd seen. Impressed with my research. I even got him to talk a bit about more recent times. He spoke _so fondly_ of you and Andor when I got to his years in Scandinavia."

She smiled a very dark smile. He swallowed and felt a muscle in his cheek twitch. He continued to stare at her but she said no more.

"You've really _killed_ him, Sookie?" Eric said finally, in an amazed tone. The expression on his face conveyed disbelief.

"Any residues you see in the envelope are his. I give you my word he's very permanently dead. He crumbled so nicely. I thought you would recognize the ring because it looked like the oldest and most personal thing. Like I said, it was the only thing I took. Other than the poor child, of course. It was offensive to me to even touch anything that had been his."

He glanced across the desk at her as his fingers closed over the ring. He grasped it tightly in his hand. It was almost beyond his comprehension. _Ocella was well over two thousand years old!_ In contrast, she, so new, looked like the finest porcelain, too small, too fragile to have ever done what she described. Yet, there was an energy about her that was palpable, and unusually so. Looking at her, it was very, very hard to believe that she was only a year old. She had had the strongest mind of any human he'd ever encountered. And now power and sheer force of will seemed to surround her. But, strip that away, or perhaps hide it, and she was just another attractive female vampire. One would have no way of knowing what they were dealing with. He thought of Delatour, and even of Ocella, though he had no love of women. They never would have known what hit them, he thought to himself. How many people, other than a few of us, know what she is really like? The fierce will that she had always possessed? The stone-cold courage that had driven her, even as a human, to do things that seemed almost impossibly risky because she believed they were right. She was anything but just another attractive woman or vampire. No, it was the ultimate deception.

She seemed to flash onto that thought or at least gather what he was thinking from the way he looked at her.

"That's why it worked. I was the perfect weapon. I looked innocuous. Not even like this," she said gesturing to her present clothing. "I was in jeans, a pink tank top, flip-flops and pink nail polish. The very antithesis of power or darkness. He even noticed that I'd died slightly tanned. I was just some girl. A graduate student who got herself turned. Who liked ancient history, especially _vampire_ history, an awful lot. Who was going to write something about our ancient history from his wise perspective, using his pseudonym, to preserve his privacy."

"Did you glamour him enough to kill him?" he asked, trying to take it in and to envision it. She could break their agreement on this point as badly as she wished, he thought to himself.

"I _slowed_ him. Weakened him. Subtly. Just enough to be safe, myself, since he was obviously so incredibly strong. I knew it was stretching our terms. But I'd already had a taste of what he might be like because of Delatour. Still, I wanted him _aware_. To know I was doing it _for you_."

His eyes widened in appreciation. So she'd wanted him aware of what she was doing. _Why_ she was doing it. He flashed on the idea of that last moment of Ocella's existence… hearing _his_ name… It was simply extraordinary.

"With a stake? Did you shoot him?" he asked quietly.

"It would have been too difficult to travel with a gun. Besides, I was going for the quick and permanent option. With a specially made ash stake, yes. It was really quite lovely. I've got plenty more. Though, not for anyone in particular," she said with an amused smile.

"Specially made how?"

She hesitated a moment.

"A friend helped me make it. It has a silver core in case it breaks and… it's just a special item. If you would like to see one, I'll let you see one sometime."

"Special how?"

"I'll explain more another time," she said quietly. And then she fell quiet.

He was silent for several minutes and said nothing further about Ocella. He studied her face which had quickly gone back to being almost expressionless. He had seen that look long ago. It was a look she had perfected when she had been an interrogator. He recalled it from when he had first visited her in Virginia, after he had found her again. It was a look not easily worn down, in his experience, and it certainly indicated how guarded she appeared to feel. He felt a swell of affection looking at her. And great pride though he was still trying to absorb the idea that his _wife_ had apparently managed to kill his sire when he and Andor had failed. He sat studying her. She looked quite elegant in all her black. His eyes lingered on the turquoise at her throat. There was something quite odd about it. He started to ask but then decided to wait. Instead he said,

"And how are you, Sookie?"

She had turned slightly away from him. She paused for a moment as if to think about it.

"I am well," she replied carefully.

"Have you fed? You are quite pale."

She turned back toward him slightly.

"I always look quite pale. I have had several bottles before I came, however."

He stared at her, looking as if so many questions were racing through his mind. But he didn't speak them.

"I've never fed from a person, if that's what you're wondering. I stuck to the agreement. I doubt I ever will feed from an actual human, anyway. The whole idea makes me squeamish, frankly. I'd be afraid of hurting someone and really, it seems like such a personal thing. I'd be afraid of what I'd hear and see from them, too. I just don't see how I'd ever be able to do it considering how I am."

Well, that appeared to answer any concerns he had about her fidelity or her getting into legal trouble because of getting carried away and draining anyone. He looked at her and was very still. He wanted to know her answer about the all important issue. He continued to stare at her until she finally looked up and met his eyes.

"So you have decided?" he asked quietly.

"Wow, cut to the chase already, why don't you?" she said dryly, pursing her lips.

He was silent as he continued to look directly at her, as if searching her face for something. The answer to his question, perhaps, before he would have to hear it from her lips.

"You look me directly in the eyes again and again. Aren't you afraid that I will glamour _you,_ Eric?"

"Why should I be? Maybe I don't believe that you even really could. But more importantly, I don't believe you _would_. You trusted me to glamour you only a few times in all the time I knew you as a human. You were always fearful of anyone having power over you. So I don't believe that you would abuse the power to glamour others. Besides you have sworn fealty to me. I trust your word." He steeled himself wondering where that comment could take them.

She ignored it. Instead, she paused and seemed to compose herself before she spoke. She looked down and said,

"If you wish it, I will come back. If you prefer otherwise, which I would more than understand, I will stay in Europe. I have made a good friend in Amsterdam. She is a witch and quite old. She has an affection for me." She fingered the carved turquoise talisman on the leather cord at her neck. "She has offered to make further introductions for me there if I return to Europe. They are very liberal there. Very tolerant. I could live safely in Amsterdam. In no way would I weigh on your conscience."

Her voice betrayed no emotion. Her face was almost expressionless as she spoke. It was almost as if she had rehearsed saying it.

His own face looked ever so slightly drawn, tense. So she clearly was _not_ asking him to allow her to meet the sun or any even worse option? That was the most important thing by far. But still…

"But what do you want to do? Our agreement was about your choices. Not mine. Do you want to come back? Your manner makes me doubt that."

She looked away. Her eyes suddenly filled with tears. Her lips parted but she did not speak out loud. She seemed to be struggling to retain her composure. She looked as if she had to force herself to respond and couldn't speak it out loud at all.

_I would want to come home… But I would need to know you still want that yourself._

"It would be all I want, Sookie. I've waited for you to return to me."

She turned toward him, without looking up at him and a single pink tear streaked down her cheek. Then another. And another.

In an instant he was near her, sitting on the edge of the desk. He reached out to her bowed head but stopped short of touching her. She was so contained that it was almost as if she was afraid to feel anything at all he realized. She even looked as if she anticipated being struck as he drew close to her, tightening herself as if anticipating a blow.

"Sookie… other than Delatour, no one has hurt you, or _tried_ to hurt you?"

She shook her head 'no'.

"Are you sure you wish to come back?" he asked, drawing his hand back. His heart sank at the question. What if she really didn't want to come back to him? He could barely even get a fix on her emotions. She was so guarded.

She nodded and yet another tear traced down her cheek. She still did not look up to meet his eyes.

"Look at me. Look at me and tell me you want to come back. I want to hear you say it. Out loud."

She glanced up at him. After what appeared to be some immense internal struggle, she said,

"I want to come home, Eric."

"Why? You act as if you are afraid to. Why do you want to come home?"

"I belong here. With you. To you. I love you. I…" She looked down again, drifted off in her thoughts and then gasped and said in little more than a whisper, "If it had been you, if the situation was reversed, I would have done exactly the same thing. I would never have been able to do otherwise. I was asking you to do something pretty much impossible. It was a very hard thing to admit to myself. But I was the person you loved. A person you couldn't just… destroy. No matter _what_ you had promised. It wasn't your fault. It wasn't anyone's fault, other than that man."

He closed his eyes for a moment and then looked down at her sad face. Suddenly, he understood everything.

She was afraid he didn't want her back.

He held out his hand to her. She placed hers in his and more tears streamed down her face.

"I am so sorry for the things I said to you, Eric. I don't know that apologies will ever be enough. I was so angry. So very, very angry. And I was truly horrible to you. But it wasn't your fault that you couldn't keep your promise. And I would have done exactly the same."

He hesitated a moment and then said,

"Is that why you went after Ocella? _By way of apology_?" He was still just astonished by the entire business.

She shook her head. But didn't meet his eyes.

"No. I did it because all of you needed to be free of him. Because I was the thing he least expected and therefore the most likely to succeed. What I saw in Stefan's mind just haunted me. He made him kill someone he loved. A woman he loved. To do unspeakable things. _Stefan_, of all people, who is so gentle? And he was so vile to him. Just unspeakably cruel. I don't even know how Stefan managed to still retain so much of himself. After seeing all that, actually _seeing_ what he did to Stefan, to Cadel, knowing what you and Andor had told me in the past... I just couldn't stand thinking that he could come back and find you. Any of you. You were my family. The idea that someone like that could hold any power over you was intolerable to me. I was not leaving that flat without killing him. Not leaving this earth unless he was gone before me or with me. The thought of it sustained me for all those months. I knew I would find him. I knew I would kill him. I wanted it more than anything, especially after really meeting him. And I wasn't coming back until he was gone. I sat watching him flake and crumble, hugging that child who was there and felt like there was at least one good reason that what happened to me had happened. To protect you, the four of you, all of us, and to save that one child. That poor, poor boy. I glamoured him, trying to patch him up mentally and leave him with something that might make him capable of a normal life. He needed to be protected from the horrors that he had seen and endured... He'd even seen the previous boy molested a final time then drained and discarded like trash. He was just waiting his turn, glamoured but still aware of his impending fate, powerless to escape."

She paused with a look on her face that spoke volumes about things that she had seen. She looked up at him with eyes that glowed.

"Ocella's connection to you was just offensive. It needed to be abolished. _He _needed to be abolished." Her eyes shone with certainty as she spoke. "And I have not a shadow of a doubt that this world is a better place without him in it."

He looked at her, his free hand still tight around the ring. _One year, _he said to himself in amazement. She is vampire only one year and this is how she is? It was just… astonishing. She walked into his residence alone, with the intent to stake Ocella, knowing what she had seen in Stefan and Cadel's minds?

And she _did_ it.

There was a knock at the door. He released her hand and rose. He bent and stroked her cheek as he kissed her forehead, then walked over to the door to unlock and open it. She heard Andor murmur something in Norse about Hunter. Eric replied something and then waited by the door, looking back at her.

She was so very controlled and still. So different from the vivacious manner she had had when she was alive. She needed to recover more of former self. It was obvious just looking at her that she was still so very unhappy. She needed to be around people who knew her, he thought to himself. Some place safe, so she could relax. He wanted back the warmth and humor that had to still be inside her. But clearly, something indefinable had changed in her. _Everything I have learned as a vampire I have learned to be able to kill him. And I have learned much, _she had said. Where else had she been? What had she been doing for an entire year? This research, how was it accomplished? In Paris? In Amsterdam? A friend who was an old witch? There was a famous enclave of Dutch witches, the Voortens, but usually witches and vampires did not mix with one another in Europe as they did here in New Orleans. How would she even have met the friend if it was one of that coven? And what had she learned on her own? Learned, he sighed to himself, without him?

He suddenly felt taken aback to realize that, in her mind, perhaps she didn't even need him if she had thought to go live in Amsterdam as a lone vampire among witches. Of course, she also didn't really understand what she had done. The magnitude of the risks she had taken. It was frightening to him to even think of what would have happened to her if Ocella had overpowered her. But she _had_ done it. She had learned enough on her own to efficiently kill the oldest vampire he knew personally and a vampire that he and Andor together hadn't managed to kill to free Stefan. Sophisticated enough to glamour a vampire somewhat less than twice his age into forgetting her very existence, but only after getting him to decree that everyone around him had to leave her alone. His eyes shone as he looked at her. She was beyond clever considering her age and meager experience. And she was his. Made largely of his blood… We are so bound into one another, he thought to himself. He already felt as if something that had been missing inside had returned to him with her presence. Yet she herself seemed so distant, so _contained_, in contrast to the way he felt.

Andor, Stefan and Cadel finally entered the room and looked over at her tentatively. Eric closed the door behind them and then he tossed Andor the ring. Andor caught it and looked quite startled after he looked at it more closely. He handed it to Cadel and looked at Eric and then studied Sookie, quite puzzled. Cadel and Stefan examined it with heads close together and had about the same reaction. Eric took the ring back and tossed it, merrily, in the air. He smiled at her and gestured that she should speak.

"Tell them, Sookie," he said softly.

"I staked him on Sunday. The 13th. He was in Buenos Aires," she said simply.

Stefan gaped. Cadel glanced from her face over to Eric, who shrugged and nodded in confirmation. Andor just remained focused on her, and slightly wide-eyed, asked skeptically,

"How?"

She repeated the story to them.

Andor and Stefan simply stared at her in disbelief when she finished. Cadel asked incredulously,

"You're _serious_, you're really serious? You went entirely by _yourself_? You were alone with him in a flat and you just… staked him? I can't believe he even talked to you in a private place. He let you see where he lived? He was always so cautious. It's just incredible. But you're saying that he was awake and aware? He did not fend you off?"

"It was too unexpected. I'd glamoured him a bit to make him a bit slower. This was the third time we'd met to discuss his history. I had agreed to preserve his anonymity. I talked to him about the Roman Republic and then the early Christian era. Then his cheerful years in Northern Europe but just a bit, only as he had followed the Romans through Britain and then explored Scandinavia. Then I lulled him into talking about his history from long ago, long before Eric and Andor were made. Late Roman era, my special interest. I had researched for months in order to talk knowledgeably with him. He had no reasonable basis to fear me. I was less than a year old, and a ponytailed researcher in jeans, a tank top and flip-flops with flowers. I was a woman. Why would a twenty-two hundred year old vampire ever think to fear _me_?" She said this last point with a dark smile as she looked at the four of them.

Cadel looked at her proudly. "Well, I'm never touching your car again. I mean, after I get all my stuff out of it."

Andor stared at her and said,

"So he was aware, then?"

"We had talked for several hours already that night. He was already quite used to talking to me by then, since it was the third time. He was more relaxed because I'd gotten very good at drawing him out on things he liked to talk about. When I did it, it was over very fast. But yes, he was quite aware and I told him it was for Eric as I struck him." She looked at Eric. "So Eric's name was the very last thing he heard as he departed this earth. I don't think it had ever occurred to him that a woman might go after him. Let alone something as young as me." She paused a moment and said with cold steel in her voice. "I can still see his glittering brown eyes as he stared at me in shock, screamed and began to crumble. It was an odd feeling to destroy something so ancient."

At her words Andor finally smiled slightly. Eric, meanwhile, could only remember Hunter's words. _She will surprise you._ How on earth had she managed to find Ocella, track him, kill him, all on her own? It was more than just surprising, frankly. He was quickly distracted from thinking about it, however.

"You have almost made up for leaving as you did, then," Andor said dryly.

"_Andor_," said Eric in something of a low growl.

"What? I'm supposed to act as if all is forgotten? She runs away after behaving as she did and waltzes back in her as if…"

"_Andor!" _said Eric in a more intense tone of voice. "Your opinion on the matter is _not _appreciated at the moment."

"My opinion, if what you've said in the past is true, is one I have every right to express," he said glaring back at Eric. He looked over at her rather darkly. "I expect that you'll be apologizing for some time."

Eric growled something in Norse at him and Andor retorted with some statement with a grim smile on his face while still looking at her. Then, looking at her but responding to Eric, said,

"Not groveling, no," in English. "But I expect better than assuming all is forgotten by all of us. Because it _isn't_." He regarded her with a glacial stare.

She looked at him coolly without replying then rose and turned to Stefan. "Where is Hunter? With Pam?"

Stefan replied softly, "Yes, they're in her office." He walked toward the door with her. He reached out and touched her gently on the arm. "Thank you, Sookie," he said quietly. He looked her directly in the eyes. "Thank you."

She nodded to him. She would never be able to forget his memories of Ocella, even though what she had seen had been relatively brief. She couldn't imagine living with his cruelty for a century and the memories of it so long after.

She turned and nodded to the others and started to move toward leaving. Andor held out his hand in a gesture to make her stop and directed her attention back to Eric.

"Sookie, you are supposed to ask for permission to depart in some fashion," he nodding toward Eric. "It is the protocol. You should remember this, especially in public. But perhaps it's a good time to start. Since you already have a habit of leaving without permission."

Eric made a huffing sound and crossed his arms, glaring at Andor. But before he could even reply, with a sudden whoosh of movement she stood looking up at Andor and her eyes went from clear aquamarine blue to shiny copper red. Her bristling displeasure was evident in that gaze. She was angry. As her lips parted to speak it, her fangs were down.

"I'll ask permission from _no_ one here to merely exit a room, Andor. I'm sorry if I continue to be an aberration that disturbs you." Andor disapprovingly started to say something in retort but she cut him off with her eyes blazing. "I have sworn my fealty and I've _more _than proven it to Eric and to all of you. I won't be subservient here. I just won't. Not to you or to anyone," she said in an ice cold tone, gazing up at Andor. "And frankly, if I did something that you all couldn't manage to do in a thousand years, I don't think I'll be asking anyone's _permission_ to go anywhere."

Andor visibly flinched from the warning tone in her voice. He dropped his gaze just slightly from her eyes and clenched his jaw with displeasure. There was something in her manner that had real menace in it. She was not at all what he had expected. She had been an unusual human, without question. But gentle and soft-hearted, even if occasionally feisty, and very brave. He had grown to see what had attracted Eric to her. But this? And she was barely a year old and she was menacing _him_, at his age? It was ridiculous. But she did not even back down but rather intensified her gaze at him. He glanced away toward Eric, one eyebrow raised. He had spent the entire year angry over her having taken off. He had been almost as upset as Eric, because he found her actions incomprehensible and so hurtful to Eric and even to Pam. But now she seemed almost defiant about it. He wondered if she had even really apologized sufficiently to him for her behavior.

She looked over at Eric, eyes still bearing that hot metallic glow. Her lips were tight as if she was restraining herself from speaking further.

_I have already apologized to you. If I am to return… if that is really what you wish… I will not live here and be subservient in this little group. I was not so when I was alive and I will not be so now. I will never pretend to be what I am not. I am outside the box. I am the weather. _

Eric smiled at her. So she was still quite fiery under all that cool control she had strived for and achieved so deceptively. Seeing that fire stirred something in him. At present, all he could think of was being alone with her, touching her, holding her. He inhaled her scent… so familiar... and ran his tongue over his slightly descended fangs. Still, Andor was upset and had been for the entire year. Her anger, her running away, they had all proven Andor so wrongheaded in his understanding of her. She was not content being a gift or a person without a choice. Andor had argued not just with him, but repeatedly with Cadel, and in the end even with Markus, over the entire business. Andor had been wrong on a number of things. Andor despised being wrong. But he was, thankfully, right in the main, that she would indeed forgive them all. The balancing act between the two of them had been going on for the better part of a decade. It looked as if it would continue to be much the same.

Not breaking his gaze on her Eric said quietly,

"It is fine, Andor. It is as it was before, when she was alive. She is after all, my wife. I think I'm modern enough at this point not to have my wife asking my permission to merely leave a room whether when with us _or_ in public. I didn't even do that with my _first_ wife. If I had, she'd have done away with me long before Ocella ever found me. I am not used to subservient women. I do not care for them. Surely you've noticed that by now. So she is my wife first and a subject as an afterthought. As for the other thing, it is a private matter and it will remain private."

Eric smiled at her as he spoke and then glanced over at Andor who merely put his hands behind his back and nodded icily. He glanced back to her.

_I know you wish to see Hunter and Pam. I will be done in an hour or two. And then… I would enjoy talking with you._

A series of emotions played guardedly across her face. She nodded and turned to leave.

_I love you, Sookie. I love you._

She turned back to him. His words seemed to impact her little if he went by her expression but he suddenly felt churning emotion stir in her as her eyes, now clear blue again, met his.

_And I love you. That is the reason I am here. It is the reason I will stay. _

_It is the only reason I would ever ask you to stay._

There was silence for a moment as she looked away from him and then she glanced back.

_In case I am done early, with talking to Pam and to Hunter, could Pam let me into your rooms? I would like to use my computer, if it is still there?_

Ou_r rooms? __Of course your things are still there. __I never changed the code._

She looked surprised.

_That is surprising._

_Why? If I changed the code, it would make it harder for you to come back to me._

She just stood looking at him, absorbing that thought. He continued,

_Talk to Pam and Hunter upstairs if you prefer. Rosie will be pleased at your return. She has given me many vocal complaints in your absence. She's been quite spoiled. But still, she is not satisfied without you._

_She did not like me before I left. You should have just given her to Hunter._

_You just smelled a bit different to her, that's all. It just startled her. You are still the same. Besides, I have grown to like her. She slept on your pillow during the day much of the time you were gone. We have both awaited your return. Of course, Pam will be so very happy you are back. She really didn't like cleaning the litterbox. I have had so many complaints. It was evidently a harsh way for her to make amends for her mistakes. I am sure she will complain quite bitterly to you about it._

At that, Sookie burst out laughing. Eric smiled almost wickedly. It had turned out to be one of the worst punishments he had visited on Pam in a hundred and eighty years, if her complaints were any indication.

Andor, Cadel and Stefan seemed very aware of the silent exchange and were caught unprepared for her laughter and Eric's big smile. Stefan, who was standing behind her holding the door for her, leaned over and said softly,

"Your laughter is a welcome sound. I was beginning to think I'd have to set Cadel on you again." He smiled at her.

_He's right. It is good to see you laugh. You need more of that, Lover._

Her eyes lingered on his face as she turned back to look at him. She did not reply but glanced back one more time as she exited the office.

As she started down the hall, Cadel fell in step with her, then took her arm and leaned conspiratorially toward her.

"I want to come with you. I've got good money riding on a bet with the Boyo about whether she'll 'leak'. I think she'll hold it together. I think she cried out every last tear she'll ever have last December. The Boyo seems to think she'll spill when you've finally returned. Even with his hocus-pocus, I think he's got her pegged all wrong."

Something in his manner jogged her out of her self-contained façade. Betting money with a nineteen year old he was supposed to be _guarding_?

"Great job, Cadel. Making bets with an impoverished college student you're supposed to keep safe? Wow. Really classy."

He hugged her arm closer.

"Oh, I've missed you, too. You look grand in the black leather. Making Andor flinch was _really_ impressive. I'm glad you're keeping that up even now. It's even more impressive now, somehow. Not sure why exactly, but it just feels more daring. I'm hoping, when you're ready, to get the blow by blow account of the old man's final moments, by the by. But mostly, I'm glad to see you so well... How's your driving these days?"

"I had a diesel rental car once when I was in Paris. It was a Peugeot. It smelled like Gitanes. I could hardly stand it. I rarely drove. I've mostly used the Metro or trains when I travelled around. Once I went on a ferry on Lake Geneva. It was beautiful at night. Just for diversion."

"Not a speedboat? Ferries are so slow. I'd have fallen asleep like it was noon. I can see you're still in a bad way, then…" he said with a chuckle. "I'll help you fix that as soon as you're up for it. We'll steal her car and test its limits a bit, shall we? Or, better still, we can snag the keys for Andor's Porsche. Now _there's_ a temptation. But of course, we'll tell him it was _your_ idea. Safer, that."

"Honestly, Cadel, cars just aren't my thing," she said with a very slight smile. He knew that full well.

"What's your thing, then? You've been gone so long I've forgotten."

She paused before answering then said,

"Reading, research, music, fine art, witchcraft, elegantly crafted stakes. These are things I enjoy. They're _far _ahead of cars. And I like French. And my Dutch is the best it's ever been, which isn't saying all that much. I still need so much help with German. My German is still a trainwreck."

_Stakes? Witchcraft?_ He gave her an odd look, but let it slide.

Finally, just outside the door to Pam's office she halted and after a moment's hesitation looked up to meet his dark eyes and said,

"And you, Cadel… You forgive me?"

He glanced at her, puzzled.

"Forgive you? For _what_?"

"For taking off. For telling about your family. For mentioning about Angharad. I've felt so bad that I told about what I saw. I know you always hated that. I'm so sorry I did. It was violating your privacy. And I know it was probably painful to remember."

He looked surprised and then pulled her close, hugging her and then kissing her forehead.

"No, love… Don't beat yourself over that. You weren't well. You were so upset. I'm just glad you're back. You've been much missed by all of us. We've missed all the havoc you can wreak. You and I need to have a long talk about the German thing, however. It seems your German is better than you know, but there's time a plenty to discuss that later."

"So then you're not angry with me, that I left the way I did?"

"I'd hardly be in a position to be critical of someone's taking off because they didn't like how things were going, now would I? And besides, I kind of… kept track. Lovely area you were staying in."

She pulled back from him in surprise but cautiously said nothing.

"Rue de Verneuil or however it is pronounced? My French has always been shoddy. Probably worse than your German is now."

She gasped, then whispered,

"You _literally_ knew where I was?" She looked stunned.

"Well, I mean it took a few weeks. After I finally figured out the new password on your accounts I got the new contact email off that." Her jaw dropped. "Yeah, then I hacked the whole thing," he said looking quite proud of himself. "I saw you had stuff delivered to that address. Looked it up in the online maps. Got the street view. Galleries. Cafés. I can see, knowing you, why you liked that area. I didn't tell anyone. Not even Stefan. You'll see that they had an idea of where you were, where you traveled to. But not from me, is my point. That was from you. But I didn't tell, since I was never asked after the beginning. No harm in holding your secrets. After all, we're like partners in crime you and I. Or… I dunno. Partners in _something_. So no stakes and witchcraft on me, then, right? Not that I have a problem with witchcraft. Just don't get that wrong. I've got no problem with Amelia and Bertram and their little one. Delightful people. Just go after Andor if you're mad at anyone still. When in doubt, pick the biggest. Especially since he can't do anything much back. It's more fun, that. Just call me so I can watch you." He dimpled up and winked at the idea of her going after Andor.

She still looked at him as if stunned.

"You knew where I was living in Paris the entire time and you _didn't_ tell Eric?" she said in the softest whisper.

"The Boyo said you'd be back safe and sound, so I figured I'd best leave you to your space. I actually thought it was in _his _best interest to let you work it out as you needed to. And in the end, it turned out to be in all our interests, right? But yeah, I'd check every other day or so just to be sure you were okay. I figured if you were checking your email or ordering books that you were okay. I was really stumped by the air travel to Lima and Buenos Aires, though. By the way, I've never seen so many new words as I have since reading your emailed word a day business. I've been using them on Pamela. It really bothered her. She's been quite put out thinking I might even be reading or something."

"Cadel, sometimes you just astonish me," she said quietly.

"Yeah, I'm really like that, aren't I? Astonishing. Right. Just remember that when you see the miles I've put on the car, okay? Now get ready for the fireworks and drama. Pamela must be ready to burst like a piñata."

He opened the door without even bothering to knock.

They entered Pam's office and she rose from her desk locking her eyes on Sookie. Hunter, who had been sitting on the couch reading, stood up and looked at her with bright eyes. Cadel hung back near the door after closing it behind them, silent and smiling, looking eagerly at Pam.

Pam, dressed in an elegant lavender suit, smashed her fist on her desk and said crossly,

"_Finally_! Nice of you to stop by. I just want to say at the outset that you are the worst child _ever_. The most disobedient. I don't know why anyone bothers turning anyone at all if there's even a chance they'd act like you. You got me in so much trouble. You were so damn inconsiderate. I got no information. If I get one more damn request from people working for Bill Compton's database about your current location, I will _drain_ someone. How was _I _to know your location? A blank picture postcard from _Lima, Peru_? Blank Vermeers with Dutch postmarks? Degas and Renoir with French ones? And what is it with you and Van Gogh? So many damn Van Goghs! Did you only go to cities in Europe if they had a Van Gogh? Have you ever _heard_ of a phone? Of email? And leaving me with that damn cat to care for. That damned messy cat… with her filthy litterbox. Day after day, week after week… I felt like inviting Bubba down to New Orleans behind Eric's back. You are going to pay me back in spades for your behavior and your cavalier manner. You're going to think twice before behaving this way with me again, my friend…"

Sookie ignored her lecturing and had walked over in the middle of it to hug Hunter and kiss him on the cheek while Pam ranted on. He hugged her for a long time and then stood back and looked at her and smiled.

"I'm so glad to see you, Aunt Sookie," he murmured, his eyes brimming.

Pam was finally quiet and stood waiting, balanced on her toes, almost looking agitated for a vampire.

Sookie released his hand and started to move to Pam and then suddenly turned back to him, her face turned at an angle, her eyes startled. She took his hand again as she locked onto his eyes and struggled to maintain her composure. Projecting a strong, but stunned internal voice to him, she said,

_You knew? All along you knew? You knew and you never said anything to me?_

He instantly looked very tense and nervous, eyes widening as her thoughts flooded his mind. There was no covering up the fact that he had heard her loud and clear. He tried to organize his thoughts after he saw that she could so clearly read them.

_That's the way you told me I had to play things. To not interfere with what I see unless I'm sure it won't make it worse__. It was like the chess game, long ago. If I had tried to change things, maybe we would have lost. Or lost you. The Queen is a valuable piece. She is freer to move than any other on the board, Aunt Sookie. She has the fewest rules. This will not just work out. This will be a good thing for you, and for Eric. For all of us. I know you still aren't happy right now. But you're home. And no matter what you think right now, you _will _be happy. You really will. I know it. I've _seen_ it. You always taught me to trust what I see. So I did. And… I didn't want to let you go. To lose you. None of us did. Me, especially. I already lost my mom. This way I didn't lose you, too._

She seemed truly shocked by the revelation. She looked at him a moment longer and something beyond words seemed to pass between them. It was far too much to discuss at the present time. Maybe for quite some time. She swallowed hard, and regained her composure.

"We will talk about this another time," she said softly. Another time when he can reflect on the fact that his mother was a vampire when she was killed for instance? The whole thing was beyond shocking. She looked up at him.

His eyes were filled with tears.

"I'm just so glad you're home," he managed to choke out.

She looked down at his warm hand in hers. She squeezed it gently. He was still a child in so many subtle ways when he had started college. Her child. What could you say to someone not ready to part with the parent who understood them?

"I am, too," she said looking up and meeting his eyes again. "I missed you terribly. I missed everyone so very much."

She kissed him again, and gently let go of his hand. She turned back to Pam, who waited expectantly. She walked over to her and hugged her, kissing her softly on the cheek. Pam looked up at her and touched her face.

"So very lovely…" And then she burst into tears. Sookie put an arm around her and looked over at Cadel.

"I hope it wasn't a _lot_ of money?'

In spite of how tense he'd been only moments before, Hunter grinned and mouthed something to Cadel. Cadel shook his head in disgust and shot Hunter a bird.

"Considering how she is with everyone else _about_ everything else, I just don't get it. Tough as nails, except with you," said Cadel, shaking his head but with a delighted grin that showed he was really happy for Pam. "Well, you and maybe…"

"Get out of my office, Cadel! _Get out_," hissed Pam with bared teeth.

"See?" he said shaking his head to Hunter. "Where does Eric even find them? These women he finds are just fierce. He likes women who like to fight. Andor and I aren't like that. And I didn't think St…"

"Leave!" shouted Pam.

He winked at Sookie then saluted Pam, turned on his heel and closed the door as he left.

She continued to hug Pam, who didn't say much of anything. She just stood with Sookie's arms around her and leaned her head against Sookie's. It was Hunter who spoke finally.

"She kept every one."

Hunter walked over to pick up a carved rosewood box on the long table with her orchids and opened it to show Sookie.

"She would show them to me if I got low. And to Amelia. _Proof_, she said. Proof you were still just fine. We'd go through them and try to imagine what you were seeing… your nights. We looked at the Starry Night over the Rhone so many times. The one you wrote happy birthday on?"

_It kept her going, if you're listening. It meant everything to her that you wanted her to know you were okay._

She looked in the box. Fifty-one postcards she had mailed. Probably not all even received yet. One mailed every Sunday night for a year. No matter where she had been, she had sent one. From museums or street vendors in Paris, the Netherlands, Switzerland, Italy, Germany, Peru and Argentina.

Sookie reached into her jacket and drew out the final card. She smiled at Pam.

"Diego Rivera, Museo Nacional de Bellas Artes en Argentina. Buenos Aires. Calla lilies. They had a Van Gogh there but you've always loved calla lilies, Pam. So I got this one. And I _saw_ all those Van Goghs I sent you. I like Van Gogh. He could really capture loneliness. In so many of his paintings you can feel how alone he felt."

Hunter looked puzzled.

"You went to Argentina?"

"He was in Argentina. I tracked him to Peru and then found he had moved to Argentina."

"Who?" said Pam, looking puzzled.

Hunter looked only very slightly less so.

"Ocella, Pam."

Pam's eyes went wide.

"You mean you went _looking_ for him? He really was still alive?"

"Yes, he was. Past tense being the operative term here. Because I found him."

Pam looked at her and tilted her head, questioningly, waiting for her to expound.

"I did it last Sunday. Then I had to figure out how to get back to New Orleans in time with travel distance and the different daylight hours. A tricky business with regular airlines, and I'm not kidding. It's summer down there and so far south there is little nighttime. A real risk flying at night in case of delays. I stopped several places on the way back north."

Pam looked at her in confusion.

"Wait a minute. You went to Argentina and you did _what_?"

"What do you think, Pam? I killed him. In the middle of his recollections of vampirism during the late Roman campaigns in Britain. In addition to being a murderer, a pedophile and rapist, the man was such a pompous ass. And he'd turned dozens of men. _Dozens._ He was so proud of himself, of his history. I staked him. Mostly for Eric, but really for the safety of the world at large and all of us in particular."

Pam was pulled back from her looking quite shocked.

"Sookie, you're saying you killed Ocella _by yourself_? But Eric always made it sound like he was so fearsome. He was so old… He would have been so strong. Even _they_ couldn't kill him."

"He was just over 2200 years old according to my research."

"Did you… just glamour him so you could kill him? Like knock him out or something?"

"Oh no. I only glamoured him to slow him down and weaken him a bit. I wanted him alert so that he could hear Eric's name in his last moment. I wanted him quite aware that his end had found him."

Pam looked at her open mouthed, but with a critical eye.

"You're really a bit crazy still, aren't you? Just like when you were alive. You're not going to be one bit less trouble now. Not even a bit."

She looked up at Hunter who was smiling amusedly.

"They certainly cannot say that they had no prior indications that you would be… _interesting_, Aunt Sookie."

Pam, was silent as she stood with her arm around Sookie's waist. She looked troubled. She looked up at Sookie and said,

"You're not still angry?"

Sookie looked at her. Pam's normally controlled expression actually betrayed a trace of concern and she looked like it was still a subject that held so much emotion for her. Emotions were so difficult in this form, Sookie thought to herself. It was quite easy to see how Pam had arrived at the manner she usually expressed herself in.

"Pam, just don't threaten my cat again," she said struggling to sound playful. It had been so long since she'd had anyone to be playful with.

"Eric had better not be oppressive with me like that again. The cat was the most offensive thing he's ever done to me."

Sookie turned to face her soberly.

"If the worst Eric's done to you is make you clean a litterbox, then I think you're very, very fortunate. Some of these older vampires are incredibly disgusting, Pam. Honestly, it's scary how horrible they are. Eric really sheltered you. You've got no idea."

"We'll see if you continue to hold that view when you're doing it with your improved sense of smell, my dear…" said Pam with a wry smile.

They talked for over an hour. As Sookie went upstairs with Hunter they carefully avoided talking about what he had known, or when he had known it. She seemed caught off guard when he spontaneously hugged her again on the third floor landing, but smiled at him. As they walked toward his room, he quietly told her that he was dating a Were. She was three years older than he was and had been his teaching assistant in a language lab class. She didn't know what _he_ was yet. Just that he knew she was a Were and cared for her very much.

"I haven't had the courage to tell Eric, yet."

Sookie just laughed at him.

"Hunter, you're kidding yourself. He probably smells her all over you. _I_ certainly do."

When they arrived at his rooms they stood chatting. He wanted to show her his fall semester grade report but tried to bar her from entering his room. She brushed his arm aside and glanced inside, gasping. She pushed by him and looked around in dismay.

"Hunter Savoy! This room is a _pigsty_! I don't care if you're 19 and all grown up. It's getting cleaned up by tomorrow at sunset or you're in trouble! I'm _not_ kidding. Is that a pizza box? Omigod, there is molding food in there. I smell it from all the way over there. That is _disgusting,_ Hunter! What is with the pop bottle collection? You know, you're going to get bugs in here? I do _not_ want to live in a house with bugs and no decent person would either. And what is all of that? Were you waiting for the Tooth Fairy to come and do your laundry?" She picked up a spray bottle on the dresser and looked at its label- Febreeze? And just shook her head. "You are just over the top, Hunter. And I don't know who this Were is that you're dating but she must be sensory disabled if she can't smell all this junk on your clothes along with the dirt that's still here and the food on top of it. Are you _sure_ she's a Were? Hasn't Eric been in here at _all _to check on you while I was gone? Didn't he spend any time with you at all? I thought maybe you just had been out all day. You smell like this all the time and no one said anything?"

"Eric and I talk every night. A lot of times he'd sit with me while I had dinner in the upstairs kitchen or in our dining room, but he's never come in here. Aunt Pam came in one day about two months ago and called me a reprobate, if it's any comfort. She did try to get me to clean it up. It's actually cleaner than it was then. Consider it good incentive not to leave me on my own."

She turned to look at him with a somewhat chastened look. Then she hugged his arm to her side. Even smelling of the Were and un-fresh clothes, he mostly smelled… like blood. She pulled away quickly, her fangs running down a bit. She shivered.

"I'm sorry. I need to eat."

He looked at her and nodded, his eyes looking bright but unafraid.

"That's okay… I just want you to know that I missed you so much, Aunt Sookie. It's been a hard year. And I… I guess we'll need to talk about..." He couldn't finish.

She looked at him for a moment and then narrowed her eyes, fighting the hunger and wanting to stay focused.

"Hunter, if you're going to tell me that your feelings of guilt are the reason for this mess, it's the worst excuse for a filthy room I've ever heard in my life. It's probably the worst excuse I've heard from you yet, including the one when you were sixteen and borrowed Eric's car without permission to impress that uppity girl. This is just _unhealthy,_ young man." She paused and actually shivered as she ran her tongue over her fangs. "And I'm really hungry and need to go get a True Blood but the next time I set foot in this room, I know and I mean I _know_, Hunter, that it will be pristine. I will be able to see a wood floor and actual furniture instead of piles of clothes. And there will be no trace of food and I will smell _clean, fresh_ air. Are we straight?"

His dark brown eyes shone as he nodded. She was apparently forgiving him.

"Yes, ma'am."

She hesitated and then asked what had been on her mind for more than an hour.

"Did Eric know?"

His eyes filled with tears. He shook his head 'no'.

"No. I never told anyone. He only knew after. He was so angry at me. It's the only time I've ever been afraid of him. He was so very angry with me after you left. I just... I didn't want to lose you. And this way, I knew I wouldn't really."

"I... I can't talk about this right now, Hunter. I just needed to know..." she said.

"I know it was selfish. I've been ashamed of how selfish it was. But I didn't want to be alone. I just didn't. I couldn't imagine my world if you were really gone. I know my mom died anyway as a vampire, but you'll be safe here. You'll be safe and happy."

She grasped his hand, too hungry to pull him close to give him more, and they stood there silent for several more moments. There was simply nothing that she could say about his choices.

"We'll talk more about it another time. Okay?"

He nodded to her.

She released his hand and turned, but paused in the doorway, looking back around at the shambles of his room. With a grimace, she shook her head as she ran her eyes around the room one more time. She turned back to look him in the eyes.

"I love you very much. _Clean up your act._"

His face brightened a bit.

"It will be clean by tomorrow night. Promise."

She nodded to him, then turned and walked to the end of the hall.

Rounding the corner and walking three doors down, she entered the code in the lock's keypad and let it scan her palm. The door to the library opened and she walked into the rooms where she had spent the happiest ten years of her life as a human. She closed the door and leaned back against it. She didn't need the lights now. Even in the dark she could clearly see she was home.

She glanced around the room, hung her head and cried.


	5. Chapter 5

**V.**

[_3_]

It felt… overwhelming. I was back home. He didn't seem to hate me for the things I'd said and done. I felt no malice from him at all. No malice, really, from any of them. Though Andor was still very angry at me, but I honestly couldn't blame him, no matter how feisty I could act. No, it was like a miracle to be home and have it seem as if it still _was_ my home. I cried for a while but gradually felt weak from hunger. I was still on five to six bottles a night and had had only four.

After I got myself back under control, I walked over to my dayroom. I turned on the lights. I was surprised to find that my Christmas cactuses, African violets and orchids were not only still alive but were blooming. Heavy floor to ceiling blackout drapes had been installed to cover the bay window but the drapes had been installed so that the plants would get sun during the day. Clearly Pam's thoughtfulness.

Rosie came out from under the daybed and stretched. She looked at me curiously, sniffing the air. She jumped onto the daybed and started kneading. I walked over to my desk and ran my fingertips across my things. I turned and walked back to my dressing area, with its large closet. I ran my fingers over my hanging clothes, all the happy colors. I had worn black for a year, partly because it made me feel safer and partly because I had been in mourning for losing everything. My eye lit on the red sundress I'd worn that last summer party at Amelia and Bert's. All the lively colors in my closet... I'd spent the better part of the year trying not to feel so alive inside still and worn only black. It was odd to see part of my former life so clearly defined by something as simple as what hung in my closet.

I turned to look at all the photographs on my dresser, including one of me with Bronwyn sitting on my lap out in her garden on a sunny September afternoon. She was laughing so hard as I tickled her. So many of the photos, of her, of Hunter, Amelia, Ahmed and Alla and some of the girls at the school in Miran Shah, were taken in the daytime. Realizing that I would never go back to Pakistan had been one of my many sorrows. Being a vampire was all but incompatible not just with the travel constraints but with the culture there. I ran my finger over the little handmade frame with one of the pictures of me with a little girl name Raniya. That part of my life, well, really my _life_, was over. It was no easier to accept a year later. I looked at the picture of Bronwyn. I wondered whether Amelia would feel safe having her play with me like that now. Even just thinking that I'd gotten hungry hugging Hunter was upsetting to me. Should I trust myself with Bronwyn, I wondered?

I noticed that my jewelry box had been moved. I opened it to look inside. Everything looked as if it was still there except for the fact that the bullet slugs that I had saved from long ago, the ones that Eric had taken for me, were neatly lined up next to one another in the top section now, instead of stashed in the bottom section as they had been. I had kept the bullets from times in which he'd been shot protecting me. I wondered if he had found them or if Pam had. I touched them softly. I had finally done something so great to protect him. Maybe we were even. But I didn't really think so. I wasn't sure there _was_ a 'making things even' after all the stuff I had pulled or put him through.

I walked back to the kitchen and took two bottles of True Blood O negative out of the refrigerator and heated them in the microwave. I took off my jacket and put it over the back of one of the chairs at the table. When the bottles were warm, I took them back to the dayroom and sat a distance away from Rosie. I slipped off my boots and sat cross-legged. She started kneading again and purred. I reached out and touched her head gingerly and she continued to purr. I rubbed her cheeks and eventually she came and sat in my lap. Maybe Eric had been right. Maybe she had just been startled that night because I smelled different. It had to have been a shock after thirteen years with me that I smelled… dead. But she'd never minded Eric, after all. She seemed almost to smile at me, sitting in my lap and looking up at my face. I picked up the book that I had been reading when I had died, which someone, I guess Pam, had put back on the coffee table. Ayn Rand's _We the Living_. The irony of that title had struck me so many times after I'd died. I had finished it in Paris, during days in which I was still brokenhearted and in total despair, after buying a new copy there. I opened the book and looked for a specific passage. I sighed as I found the page where Kira Argounova had spun my undead head around. I traced my fingers across the line.

"When a person dies, one does not stop loving him, does one?"

I closed the book and finished the bottled blood.

After Rosie got down, I walked over to my desk, sat down and turned on my laptop. It was a strange feeling to sit at my own desk for the first time in a year. For the first time since my life had entered the tunnel of endless night. With a sigh, I opened my browser and thought of Cadel figuring out my passwords and being clever enough to hack into my bank account and email accounts to figure out where I'd gone. I'd changed the passwords and linked the account to a new email address on the French Yahoo site before I'd even left Atlanta for Paris. But Cadel had been too clever for me. I'd changed the password from Hunter's name and birthday to Browyn's, albeit with her name spelled backwards. I couldn't believe he'd figured it out, and kept it a secret. He was really such a good brother I thought to myself. I'd lost so little in comparison to what he or Stefan, Eric and Andor had when they were turned. But still… I had lost so much _to_ _me_. Yet, I thought that actually Eric and Cadel seemed to understand that.

I logged into the new email account, Solsken_Sookie, which I hadn't checked in over a week, rather than checking my old email account. I could see in my mail program, which was still churning away, that my old account was jammed with mail, well over a thousand and still downloading. Solsken_Sookie only had several concerned emails from Chloë and Anaïs, Mathilde's twin great-granddaughters, checking to see if I was okay for Mathilde. It would be dawn soon in Amsterdam. I thought of walking along the Prinsengracht, looking in galleries and shops and of the metalsmith's shop where Mathilde had sent me to obtain the finely graded silver we used to make my silver cored stakes. It seemed like a lifetime ago, making those stakes at Samhain. I sent a short email to Chloë and Anaïs, letting them know that I was well, and was now in New Orleans. I told them they to give my regards to Mathilde and to tell her that my trip to Buenos Aires had been successful and that I'd be in touch with her soon. Then I emailed my building manager, Yves, in Paris to inquire if things were still okay with my apartment. I'd been away for a month now.

I stopped myself from logging out and erasing the cache and the cookies and all traces of where I'd been. That would have been force of habit. It didn't matter because I'd already told Eric that I'd been thinking about living in Amsterdam instead of Paris. Besides, Cadel clearly would try to find me no matter where I went. I was so good at running away and starting over. Although the problem was that wherever I went, _I_ was still there, with all my problems, all my sorrows. But I already knew from the last time that I couldn't leave myself, or my heart, behind. Of course this time I didn't just leave for myself. I'd also left for all of them.

With a heavy sigh, I rose and picked up the empty bottles to take them to the kitchen. As I rinsed them and put them into the recycling bin, the familiar and unwelcome urge overtook me more suddenly than usual. The surge of desire, the other hunger, just seemed to ignite explosively inside me. It was so intense, much stronger than usual. Maybe because of the prospect that being home presented for indulging it. Well that and the fact that Eric's scent was all over everything even on this side of our rooms. From the moment I'd seen him I'd been fighting it inside, especially once I knew he'd take me back. I worried it could just spin out of control and I wasn't about to let it. I had such bad memories of that one night after I'd been turned and the way I'd behaved.

I quickly pushed back the sleeve on my left arm. I opened the drawer with the knives, took out a good-sized carving knife and plunged it deep into my forearm, gasping with the pain of it. I withdrew it and focused on the pain, focused on ignoring the urges and desires, using my pain to master them. _Self-control_, I reminded myself. _I will exhibit perfect self-control._ I held the knife hovering over my arm as I watched the wound seal up. And waited, waited… No, it was still like a fire coursing in me, still messing with my mind. With a growl this time I dug the knife into my wrist and made two deep score marks, slashing deep and parallel lines down my forearm, hissing as I dragged the blade through my flesh. It would have been so much easier with a good straight razor or box cutter. I had to go buy one. I clenched my teeth as I carved the rune _Mannaz_, into my arm. It was my favorite. _Focus_, I told myself. _Just find your focus. You don't need the other thing. Be yourself. Be true._ If I wanted sensation, there was plenty to be had with this knife, here, now, in my arm. Sensation _I_ could control.

As I started to make the fourth score mark to complete the symbol, an iron hand grabbed my right hand.

[_4_]

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?"

I looked up at Eric standing over me. He'd thrown his jacket on the table and grabbed my hand to stop me, moving so fast he was like lightning. I opened my mouth to speak and then realized I'd also punctured my lip and could taste my blood in my mouth.

_It's how I control it._

_Control what?_

_The urges. The lust, the anger, the violence. Especially the lust. Sexual, blood, whatever. It's how I control it. It distracts me, so that I don't act inappropriately._

He ripped the knife out of my hand and angrily threw it into the sink. He grabbed my head by the ponytail and pulled it down to make my face tip up to meet his. With eyes blazing with anger he said,

"You will never hurt yourself like this again. Are we clear? _Never._ I forbid it. _I_ _absolutely forbid it_. And don't you give me any of your crap that you don't have to do what I say. As your husband, your sire, your king, your friend or whatever the hell it takes to get you to listen to me, _I forbid you_ to ever do this or anything similar to yourself _ever again_. Do you understand?"

He looked so angry, his eyes glowing and wide.

"Well, then what am I supposed to do, Eric? It's the one thing that's worked. Even if the year is up, the _problem_ is still here. I hate what's inside me. And I won't let it rule my mind, I just won't."

"This is why you look the way you do? So isolated and self-contained. You're _hurting _yourself? How often have you been doing this? And for how long?"

I didn't want to reply.

He spun me around into the kitchen wall, pressing me hard against it.

"How long have you been doing this, Sookie?" he growled at me. He looked so angry.

My eyes filled with tears. I was already in trouble again? He pressed me even more firmly into the wall and I started to tremble a bit.

"_How long?!_"

"Since that night. That night when I was so horrible to you. I had been so awful and angry. I hurt you with what I said. I hated myself for it, hated what was in me. After I took the shower I still wanted more sex and I realized you were right that it was just irrational. And I was so angry. I was just all id and not… _me_. I hated it and felt like I wanted to just cut it out of me. So I just got a knife and I cut myself. And then I stabbed my thigh a whole bunch of times. It was so painful but somehow it just seemed like it snapped me back to thinking clearly. To being _myself_. I watched it heal then I did it several more times. It was like it focused me. I could see how I was behaving, and that I had to stop. That was when I decided that I needed to leave. Because I didn't want to hurt you or Hunter or Pam or... anyone. I thought that maybe if I went away I could just wait out the year in a place where I couldn't hurt anyone I loved. So I got my passport and IDs and my bankcard and put them inside my book and went downstairs with you. Then I glamoured Pam so I could leave. And since then, I've done it all year. I use a razor or a switchblade or anything sharp or pointed. Wherever I went, I'd just buy a blade. It's how I deal. And it works. I do it every night, whenever those feelings hit me. It kept me safe. It kept me focused and in control. It helped me follow the terms of our agreement. Whenever I was tempted, I'd just cut myself or stab myself. It always worked. I could make it as bad as I needed to, to _make_ it work. I'd carve runes, names, whatever seemed right. I did it every single night, sometimes several times a night. Whatever I needed. I just wanted to keep my word. And to keep… _myself_. To not give into it. Not lose who I was. Who I _am_."

Eric's eyes were no longer red. They were dark blue and filled with tears. He looked like he was etched in stone, so still and silent, as he looked down at me. And then a tear ran down his cheek.

I gasped a little then l glanced away, unable to hold his gaze, unable to even bear to tap into how he felt. I was making him cry. I had _never_ made Eric cry. How horrible was I, I wondered? How horrible? I broke down and started to cry. I felt so ashamed.

In a voice that sounded like he was grasping for control he said,

"Well, you are not going to do it any more. I want your word and I want it right now, Sookie."

"Then what am I supposed to do, Eric? I can't…"

"_Your word,_" he said cutting me off.

"I can't! I can't give you my word if I know I'll break it. I need some way to…"

"You will learn to control it by talking and blowing off steam in ways that do not involve causing yourself harm. I will help you. No matter what it is, I will help you. You will not do this _ever again._"

"But it _heals_. What does it matter if it heals?"

"Your mind is not going to heal from thinking that every time you have any negative thought that you should just carve yourself up. That you should hurt yourself for what you _are_? And some of what you're doing this to yourself for isn't even negative… I want your word and I want it _right now_. "

"I can't… I just can't. I don't know what else to do. I don't want to lose _myself_ or…"

"You have not_ lost yourself._ You are still you."

He hoisted me up the wall slightly and pressed his hips into mine as he spoke. I gasped as my fangs ran down and I felt an incredible lurch of desire seize me. My nostrils flared as I inhaled his scent.

"Ooohhhhhh," I gasped, closing my eyes, gritting my teeth and fighting the feelings. My fangs were down and I wanted to bite him, fuck him, get lost in him. I clenched my fists digging my nails deep into the palms of my hands. "Let me go, let me down! Please, Eric…" I started to struggle to get away from him. Instead, he pulled my legs up just above his hips and thrust against my pubic region. It was like an electric charge.

"Do you really think I'm going to let you go? I am not hurting you. I'm just holding you. What is wrong with this? This is some of what you were feeling before, when you started, yes? What is wrong with this feeling, here, now, between us? You are not angry, you are not confused. You are mine and I am yours. We have been apart and we both have desire. What is wrong with this and why would you want this feeling associated with carving into yourself with a knife? Why would you want to associate sex with pain? How is that a good idea for you? Can you tell me?" He looked at me with a raised eyebrow.

"Because _it isn't me_. This isn't me. The way I feel is so… animalistic, feral. It isn't how _I_ felt about _you_. I don't just want to make love. I want to fuck. I want to bite. I feel like an animal. I really do. And I _hate_ it. I just hate it."

"You feel like a vampire, Sookie. It's part of what you are but only a part. And I want you to stop punishing yourself for it."

"You are _not_ like that. Not with me. And I don't want to be like that with you. I love you. And I don't want to feel like some animal that just wants to bite and fuck you. I hate feeling like this, _especially_ about you."

"How is wanting those things mutually exclusive with loving me? I feel like this a very large part of the time. I am a predator. You are my mate. I love you. I wish to be gentle with you. Faithful to you. I wish to give you pleasure and not to hurt you. But I want to bite you, fuck you, now and before you were changed, basically _all_ the time. I _hungered _for you. To look at you, smell you, feel you against me, even just to think of you, would make me want to bite you, fuck you. I could fuck you for hours. If we lived farther north, in the winter I could fuck you for days. But I control myself so as not to hurt you. Even now, when I don't need to be as careful. I temper myself so that it is not all I am and certainly not all I do or feel. But I'm a vampire and we're predators. I do not hunt, unless I am forced to do so. But I can, and I've enjoyed it. Just as you enjoyed hunting Ocella, whether you realized it or not. This is what we are and _some_ of how we feel. You will learn to control it, tame it. But only if you own it. _Now give me your word you will never do that to yourself again,_" he said thrusting at me again.

It was like his voice just resonated inside me. I gasped and turned away, twisting myself as if to get away but reveling in the sensation of my body against his as much as I hated how it affected me. I clenched my jaw and wouldn't reply to him. My nostrils flared as I inhaled his scent yet again. I wanted him so badly. I wanted to taste him. I bit my tongue, with my fangs, hard. I tried to remember the sensation of the knife slicing into my arm, the sound of slicing into my flesh. He seemed to know what I was doing because he growled and slapped me back against the wall again.

"_No!_ _Look at me!_ Promise me. I will happily fuck you until dawn if that's what you want or need. I'll bite you and you can still bite me. I want your word that you will not harm yourself in this fashion anymore. I don't even want you _thinking_ about it!" Then he leaned forward pressing me flatter against the wall, and kissed me, hard, and then gradually softer and softer. "Promise me you won't hurt yourself again," he said gruffly. Then softly, in almost a whisper, "Promise me, Sookie."

I had to get down, away, to control it… the thing in me that _wasn't_ me. I could hardly even struggle because his hold on me was so tight. I closed my eyes tight. I was even fighting the urge to try to glamour him into just letting me down. If I could just make him give me more space… No! I closed my eyes even tighter. His voice pressed into my thoughts.

_No matter how hard you fight me on this, I will win. Because I am stronger and faster than you will ever be, but more importantly, because you know I'm right. Give into me. Give me your word, get your pleasure. It is yours for the taking. Give in to me...._

_Give in_? I felt anger flare in me. Then I lost my self-control over words that seemed meant to bait me. When had I ever wanted to give in? My eyes flew open and I knew they were coppery and I hissed, open-mouthed with fangs down. But he was too fast for me. I was whipped away from the wall, and spun, so that he held me with my back against his chest, my feet not even touching the floor. His arms were like iron, holding me against him. I couldn't get my eyes on him even if I'd tried. His mouth was right at my ear but he didn't speak out loud.

_Listen to me, my beautiful and elegant mate… You will not win. I know you too well and I am too fast and too strong for you to ever catch me with those eyes. So give it up and give me your word. The clock is ticking, Lover, and it hastens toward dawn. You are wasting valuable time when we could be engaged in much more pleasurable things, like fucking or making gentle love or talking or all three, which sounds very tempting. We have an eternity together but, frankly, I'd rather spend as little time as possible of it arguing with you. I'd prefer to be focused on the opportunity for pleasure that your increased physical resilience and stamina provide. I'd like to talk to you about my year here or your year in Europe or how you found my despicable sire. But first, I want your _word_._

I arched my back and pressed my butt into his hips, feeling the outline of him hard against me. I was literally vibrating, panting.

"Your word, Lover," he repeated in a low voice in my ear. "No more hurting yourself. I need your word and I will help you keep it in whatever way I can." Then he deftly licked the outline of my ear.

I felt like was on the edge of a precipice and the abyss was losing my self-control. I was absolutely sure that Eric could keep this up until dawn and that I'd wake up at sunset to more of the same. In my human life, I'd often thought of him as controlling and relentless. Now what I felt was the immense power that fueled that relentlessness. It was something tangible. The well of that power felt deeper than anything I could imagine, even having dealt with vampires much older than he was. He had a power over me that no one else had. Maybe because I loved him and would never hurt him. Maybe because I'd had so much of his blood. And I knew I was not going to win, no matter how long I fought. _'Because you know I'm right'_ he'd said to me. How _could_ it be right to carve into myself because I didn't like being a vampire? It wasn't like there was anything that I could cut out or change. I was a vampire and there was no remedy for it. No matter how I argued with myself, I knew he was right.

I let out a low gasp, "I give you my word," amazed at myself for giving in.

"That you will not hurt yourself in order to control yourself and you will not do anything even similar again?"

I gritted my teeth and gnashed my lower jaw forward against my fangs. How was I going to manage to replace my coping strategy?

"But what will I do instead?" I whispered in frustration. "It was the one thing that worked, Eric."

"You will let me help you. And if you feel like you're going to do it, you'll tell me. You will _let_ me help you."

I'd never liked accepting help but I didn't like what I'd been doing to myself. It might work but it was horrible and I had to admit that it had made me feel more alone than ever, every time I did it. It filled me with shame that it was necessary just to control myself so that I'd behave appropriately. So that I still felt… like myself. Did I really have to hurt myself to _be_ myself? Had I finally stopped feeling so angry?

"_Sookie_…" he said, firmly.

"Yes," I whispered, "I give you my word."

I suddenly felt a shift in energy between us, a warmth, a soothing calm from him. I relaxed for a moment in his arms, even resting my head gently against his. He pressed his lips against my temple, kissing me. But he didn't put me down. Gradually there was this other sensation that subtly wrapped itself back around and around me, that felt like strands and strands of something indefinable to me pulling me tightly to him. I felt like I was wrapped into him, almost physically one with him. It had been there before but now it was much more obvious.

He pressed his lips to my ear.

"And now I'm going to ask you to promise me something that is only slightly less important. What I intended to ask of you before I came in here and caught you hurting yourself."

"_What?_"

"I want you to promise me one other thing."

"What other thing?"

"It is just as important to me..."

"Jesus Christ, Shepherd of Judea, Eric. Could I have like five minutes of peace? What more could you possibly want from me anyway? I came home to you. I said I wanted to. I told you that I'll stay as I am and stay with you. I told you I would have done the same thing you did if the situation was reversed. I have apologized profusely for my behavior. I was publicly deferential to you in front of a room full of people. I've promised I'll quit cutting myself. What the hell more could you _possibly_ want from me right now?" I hissed, pounding on his forearm as I spoke. _Put me down!_

He laughed at me!

"A charming speech, my delightful weather. I really like that one, by the way. It has panache and describes you so well. So very stormy at the moment. You sound more like yourself the longer I argue with you, Lover. But, I really do not enjoy arguing with you when we could be doing more interesting things, which I have missed immensely over the past year."

I tried to pull away from him but felt inertia in his arms, as if I couldn't get far from him, couldn't even struggle as much anymore.

_What do you want from me? Put me down!_

_I can hold you like this all night. In fact, if I take you to the other side, we can spend the day like this and you will wake in exactly the same position. I will not give up until I have what I want._

"What is it? What do you want!?"

I hissed, swinging my bare heel into his shin. He then pinned my legs together and pressed them in between his. He leaned back against the wall so that I was almost resting against him, except for the fact that I was so tense, of course. I struggled to get lose from him and drop to the floor but he held me far too tightly. He was just impossibly strong and whatever it was that he was doing seemed to be sapping every ounce of my strength.

He pressed his lips to my ear again.

"I want you to promise me that you will never run away from me again."

The words coursed through me like fire racing through a trail of fuel. Something in the way he said them burned.

"What is this? What are you doing? What is this feeling?"

"You feel our bond, as I have always felt it. It's alive still, in us. I'm am summoning my blood in you, as if to find you, and now you feel it because now we are alike. I speak to my blood and I want your promise, your vow, just as when we married. I want to keep you from running off the next time we disagree or the next time you are so upset. You will stay and we will work out whatever problems you and I have, here in these rooms, not one year or three years or twenty years later."

_This feels horrible! You _liked _this? Are you insane? _"What the fuck is this Eric? It feels horrible!"

"You're fighting it. Stop fighting it," he whispered in my ear. "It will warm you, soothe you. Relax. Promise me and feel my blood, in you, when I am happy for a change. Be at peace with me and you _will_ like it."

The words echoed in my mind. I felt a deep connection to him, just as I had when I'd first seen him downstairs.

I felt him smile. He kissed my neck and nibbled at my ear playfully.

"Say it, Lover. You will never run away from me again," he whispered in my ear.

I tensed and resisted. More fire, but this time I just determined to step around it by stepping outside myself. The problem was, I couldn't. Whatever it was he was doing it was like I was literally physically and maybe even mentally bound together with him.

"Grrrr! You've got to be flipping kidding me, Eric. This is _not_ any bond. Is this some sire trick? Some way to control me that you've figured out?"

"No, this really is some blood trick," he said with a chuckle. "This is precisely why many vampires don't want or like to mate and share blood with each other or be bound to one another. But with you min älskade, I have already shared so much of my blood. And that night I had _yours_. And this is how it feels. Now that your mind is clearer, you can see the whole picture. Every argument we've ever had since I bound you, this is how it feels to me. This is how we will live you and I. It makes it very difficult to avoid our feelings, doesn't it? And this is also why it was so bad that one night we had, almost year ago when we were both so very, very angry. And how I think I did not feel you harming yourself. Because I had tried to tune you so far out of my head because _I_ was so angry that I was afraid I would make you even worse. I didn't even feel you leave the building. But that will never happen again because I won't let it. So all I want is for you to just _say_ _it,_" he whispered in a voice that just seemed to course through me, cajole me, persuade me.

His fangs grazed against my neck and he practically growled and rubbed me against him. I suddenly felt desperate, all over again, to bite him, to be bitten, to taste his blood, and to have him taste mine, to have him inside me in every possible way, all around me. The desire was just overwhelming.

"_Say it_. You will not run away from me again."

"Bite me," I hissed. "And I mean literally, _bite me_."

"I'll bite you any way and anywhere you want me to. But only when you tell me what I want to hear."

I snarled, trembling in his arms, twisting against him. But it was hopeless.

_I hate this!  
_

_It's not like I'm hurting you, and it's not like what I'm asking is unreasonable. I will use whatever means I want or need to in order to get you to do what I want on these two things, Lover. You already gave me one promise. Give me one more. Just tell me what I want to hear and I'm yours for the rest of the night._

I let out another growl of frustration and tried to shift in his grasp but I was unable to. He let out a huffing sound as if almost amused that I was still struggling when there was simply no chance I could get away from him.

"Say you will not run away from me again. Say it, min älskade."

"I didn't run away to be _bad_ to you."

"It wasn't safe, and it's time to grow up. You cannot expect that I will take your repeatedly running away because you are unhappy or frightened or angry or because you do not want to deal with your problems with me or with yourself. It is totally unreasonable and forty-one years on this earth should have taught you better by now. It _is_ bad to me. It is unfair because you do not even give me the chance to work out our problems with you. And because you leave me with a host of other problems when you act this way. It is wrong of you."

"I ran away because I was totally out of control and _hurting_ you. I ran away to protect myself, because I gave you my word not to harm myself, and to protect _you_, from me_._"

"Somehow I would like to think that you could work through your issues here, _with me_, instead of off someplace where I have no idea what is happening to you. And I can protect myself just fine where you're concerned."

"Then I can take care of myself, too. I _did_ take care of myself. I gave you my word and I kept it."

"Ah, yes. By carving yourself up in order to be 'good'? Excellent care. I am not impressed. But more than that, this isn't my understanding of a marriage. The whole running away part? _No._ First of all, you were off doing something insane. And even if I'm impressed and will forever be grateful to you for it, it frightens me to think of what could have happened to you. And not just at the hands of my sire, or of Delatour. There are other vampires out there who are even nastier pieces of work, Sookie. What happens the day you run away and find you can't glamour some vampire who is after you? Hmmm? Did you know that can happen? I've known other vampires who can glamour our kind and sometimes it doesn't work. You have no idea how lucky you were that the two you tangled with were susceptible to your gift. And then there's the issue of continually running from your problems. Running from me. You don't even know what's out there in my world. _Our_ world. What could have happened to you if someone had detected your gift. How lucky you were that Ocella didn't realize it..."

He brushed his lips against my skin so softly and embraced me even more tightly for a moment.

"Min älskade, I do not want to imagine even a second of your being in Ocella's hands if he had caught you and overpowered you. The thought of it fills me with dread. So maybe instead of running off to other continents you might benefit more from my eleven hundred years of experience by staying _home_? I have seen and heard of many, many things that might be of use to you. You are powerful, elegant, and I am so proud of you. You were beyond clever and brave but mostly, Sookie, you were just very, very _lucky_. You know so little and are trusting to who knows whom to tell you or show you things. And you are trusting to a skill that may one day fail you. What will you do the day that happens, hmm? No, you will not keep running away when the going gets tough. I won't let you. I simply won't. I'm done with it. I'm not losing you again, if I can possibly prevent it. At least not like that. I'm going to do anything in my power to get you to stop running away. I want _your word._ Right now."

I tried to kick at him again in frustration.

"_Say it_, Sookie," his hissed into my ear.

He held me tight with a single arm like an iron rod against him and then reached around and pulled my jaw with his left hand, tipping my head gently toward my left shoulder. He nibbled at my right ear and pressed his lips to my throat. I felt his fangs graze my neck again, tempting me with pleasure and with being bitten, all the while reminding me of how vulnerable I was. He waited for my words while I hovered in some cloud of annoyance and desire. I tried to push him out of my mind, away, far away. I almost succeeded when he seemed to yank me back. I felt like he was literally pulling on the blood in my veins.

_Stubborn creature! No more running away. Please. Say it._

The word 'please' echoed in my mind. _All_ his words echoed in my mind. Unfair, unsafe, insane. I flashed on what I'd seen in Stefan's mind and thought of what would have happened to me if I had failed. Yes, Ocella would have tortured and certainly would have killed me had he overpowered me. But I did not want to tell Eric of my failsafe plan. As I had said to him earlier, I was not leaving this earth without taking Ocella with me and had made quite sure that I would. Had I really just been extremely lucky? I'd thought that any vampire would be susceptible to my glamouring skills. I'd never even thought to ask Eric anything about it before I'd run away because I was so out of control with anger and lust and not even thinking about what I was doing with my mind. I was rather chilling to think that I'd been trusting to something that might not work at all on occasion. But now, what he was asking me to promise him? What else could I do when I really felt like I needed to get away for my sanity or to avoid causing more problems? What was I to do if I just _couldn't_ be here?

"What I told you I _needed_ to go away?"

"If I knew exactly where you were, if you took someone with you for protection, and you stayed in touch every night, even just with a simple message, I might consider it. For a while. That would not be running away. That would be a 'mental health' break. And _I_ may need one myself after this entire conversation…" he said, clenching his jaw and shaking his head. "I do not see what you do not understand about how your running away is bad for us. It is bad for you and to me. If I did this to you, how would it leave you feeling? What is it that you do not understand, Sookie? _Say you will not run away from me again_," he growled.

He released my throat and his hands trailed down my neck, on to my chest and stroked across my breast as he murmured in my ear "Such a beautiful creature, so proud, so brave..." Then he chuckled at me playfully as I fought against leaning into his hand on my breast and lost.

_Say it…_

"Oh… grrrrrrrr!" I growled. I didn't want to give in to him! Why shouldn't I be able to go where I pleased when I needed to? It was so hard to push him, his voice, his mind, out of my head. I felt like he was inside me, all around me, inescapable.

He chuckled again.

"You are so incredibly stubborn. Such a simple thing I ask of you, Lover. Is it so hard to promise you will stay with me? Is that not what you promised when you married me? Can you be so cold with me as to not see what your running away does to me?"

At those last words I could feel myself begin to totally cave into him. It didn't take much to imagine what my running away, for a second time no less, must have felt like to him. Even if I felt I had done it to protect him, I couldn't imagine it, especially having to deal with it no doubt being so public here in New Orleans and even with the AVL. I felt, once again, a sense of shame over how horrible I'd been. Finally, I said almost without effort,

"I give you my word that I will stop running away from you. I will not leave again without telling you where I'm going."

"Protection? Contact?"

"I promise you," I said, going almost limp in his arms. It was like a huge release of tension. But_ he_ didn't ease up.

"Now tell me _both_ things again."

I groaned with annoyance.

"Oh, Jesus Christ, Eric!" I growled, sinking my nails into his forearm. "Maybe instead I can say I can't believe I missed you, considering how obnoxious and demanding you can be?"

"That can be the third thing. Unfortunately, I want the other two things, my beautiful wife. I would like to hear you say them, while I have you fully in the grasp of my blood in you, to be sure we have an absolutely _clear_ understanding. I have a history with you. Since there occasionally seems to be a lack of clarity about what you have promised me, I want no misunderstanding about these two things because they are _very_ important to me."

"What lack of clarity? What are you talking about?"

"I believe that you promised me, a year ago, that you would not harm yourself. And yet I find that you are carving yourself up. It looked like it hurt. It certainly hurt me to see it so I'd definitely consider it harmful. I'm giving you the benefit of the doubt on the other aspects of the promise. But I find you on shaky ground on the issue of your not hurting yourself. And then there are all the other promises you've made in the past which you've manage to twist just a bit to suit yourself. About telling me things, about not putting yourself at risk, about trusting me. I am willing to take into consideration what led us to this point, but even so, I wish to clarify what it is that you have promised me _now_." He softly kissed my ear. "Mrs. Northman?"

I groaned and pressed my nails into his arm in a kneading motion as I tensed against him. But there was simply no point in wasting more of my time arguing about something I'd _already_ agreed to. Gritting my teeth with barely contained annoyance I said,

"I will not hurt myself to control myself in any way. I will not run away from you ever again."

"My night is clear and free of storms, at last," he whispered to me, in an extremely teasing tone of voice.

I seriously wanted to smack him. Or maybe fuck for hours. He had, after all, promised.

Faster than the blink of an eye it seemed, he had me across the dayroom, the library and into the dark bedroom. We illuminated the dark room with a faint glow. He tossed me onto the bed after turning me around and giving me a very firm kiss. He turned the nightstand light on. He was beaming to have gotten exactly what he wanted. As usual. He looked so delighted with himself that it was positively insufferable. I felt a shimmering happiness in the blood in my veins, just as he had promised. It felt... annoying. Because he was happy having gotten what he wanted out of me. And of course, in spite of it, I wanted him all over me and all over inside me, which made no sense at all if I was so annoyed. But I looked at him and hungered. I had this fleeting thought that whoever had come up with the expression 'good enough to eat' had definitely been vampire.

He took off his tie and put it away, in a dramatic fashion, clearly making a point of it. In recent years I had complained bitterly that he appeared absolutely incapable of putting away any of his things reasonably on his own. He unbuttoned his shirt and then just sat on the edge of the bed, looking at me with eyes that shone with happiness. He picked up my hand and kissed it.

"Min älskade?" he said softly. He brushed the back of my hand against his cheek and closed his eyes for just a moment, then looked at me questioningly.

In spite of all the desire coursing through me, I felt this sudden and unexpected wave of tenderness in response to his now gentle manner, which was clearly asking me what I wanted, rather than telling me what he wanted.

My eyes absorbed the lines of his face. It was so refreshing not to feel anger, worry or raw lust but rather, tenderness mingled with desire. I leaned over and put my palm on his chest. I looked into his eyes, which glowed softly. I reached up and brushed back a stray strand of hair that had come loose from his ponytail during his struggle with me, then put my hand back on his chest. I felt this twisting of my heart inside that didn't feel vampire at all. It felt like long ago, when I'd done something bad and my Gran had told me off and said I'd hurt her feelings and disappointed her. It was a very _human_ feeling. I had hurt him and what I wanted more than anything else was to know he could truly forgive me for the past year. Or that it was even remotely possible that he might be able to do so.

"Do you really forgive me for the things I said to you, Eric? For my hurting you? For my… leaving the way I did?"

He touched my cheek softly. And shook his head with a sad smile.

"Sometimes I was afraid that you would never forgive me for the choice I made after what Pam did. Of course, I forgive you. Some of what you said was true, even if I did not like to hear it. I made the only choices _I_ could make. You are too much a part of me to make different choices. But as you say, you would have done no differently." He leaned over and kissed me softly. "I am still _yours_," he whispered, nuzzling his nose against mine.

The words seemed to have an almost visceral effect on me. It was like I felt them in my very blood. How different it felt compared to when I'd been alive and heard the same simple phrase. It meant something so much stronger and deeper than I had realized. At least between us. Clearly not his because I was food, his legal wife, or his responsibility. It was something that went so much deeper than those things had been. Even though now things were so changed with me, they had not changed so much in his eyes…?

"And I am yours," I replied softly, giving myself back to him, as I had long ago, when I was human. Or was it even giving myself back? Had I ever really pulled away from him, even when I was so angry?

His entire face relaxed at hearing my words. His eyes glowed like embers as he smiled at me.

I felt another crashing wave of desire wash over me. My hand trailed down his chest and then tugged on the waistband of his trousers to pull him toward me a bit.

"You're sure?" he murmured.

"It's either you or breaking my word with something very sharp… The choice is yours."

"Shhhhh, no," he said softly running his thumb over my lips. "I just want to be sure that you are really comfortable, Sookie. With me, with being back at home," he sighed. "I want you to feel…"

I firmly pulled him still closer and he chuckled, shaking his head as I was literally strong enough now to slide him across the sheets toward me. He stopped talking. He rocked me onto my back and unzipped the side zipper on my leather pants. He had the pants off me before I got even close to unfastening his belt and trousers. He admired the leather slacks and then tossed them over the other side of the bed with a mischievous look. I sat back up and the black silk top and my bra were off in no time. He was so fast whipping off my clothes that I had made little further progress with his.

"I think even when you were playing around with me that you were deliberately slower before, when I was alive, just trying to avoid totally freaking me out."

"Really? I am dismayed that you think I avoided frightening you..."

As he spoke he touched the talisman on its leather cord, looking puzzled as he ran his finger over it.

I took hold of his hand as he touched the leather as if to loosen it.

"It should stay on," I said firmly.

He touched the turquoise stone again gingerly with his left index finger.

"What is this? And I don't mean the stone, it's obviously turquoise. But what _is_ it? What is it… _doing_?"

"My friend gave it to me. I promised to wear it."

"The witch?" he asked, then raised his eyebrow.

I nodded and drew his hand away from touching Mathilde's pendant.

"It's for protection," I said, by way of explanation.

He hesitated, staring at it.

"Yes, well, it gives off… something magical. What, exactly, is she protecting you from?" he asked looking at it almost distrustfully.

I chewed my lip.

"Myself?" I whispered. "I'll tell you about it another time. But I have to leave it on. I promised I would. I've worn it for many months now. I promise it is only for me. It can't harm you."

I could tell he still really didn't like the idea very much.

He leaned closer.

"It has runes carved into it?"

"Yes, Mannaz, my favorite, Naudiz and Wunjo. It is supposed to help me. It's really fine."

"Mannaz, yes..." he whispered. He seemed to shudder. He knew that was what I had been carving into my arm.

I wanted to get away from the whole subject.

"You promised me _other_ things. Beyond discussion," I said, eagerly. I was really starting to have trouble remaining 'appropriate.' After a year of no sex and knowing that I really couldn't possibly start slicing and dicing again, I was really feeling rather… desperate.

"So I did. So I did…"

He smiled as he stripped his own clothes off, tossing them aside with a playful smile. The scent of him was utterly intoxicating. He seemed almost teasingly happy when he saw that I was sort of drinking in his scent. He blew on me softly, making me look up at his eyes.

"Have I mentioned that I missed more than just sex? I just want to be clear on that point. _Not_ just the sex. Although, I definitely missed the sex quite a bit. But I do not wish you to think that was all that I missed. And just also, to clarify a point, I too have stuck to my vow made some time ago. I trusted that you would keep yours…"

"You had a fight with Andor about it?" I asked, dragging my eyes, with difficulty, back up to his. "I caught something about a fight with Andor where you punched a hole in the wall. I didn't mean to… You were really focused, so it was like a 'loud' thought."

"We had a slight disagreement over something, that's all. Just a disagreement. Nothing to worry about."

"Andor is very, very angry with me."

"That is not exactly true and it's nothing for you to be concerned about right now." He stroked his hand down the top of my thigh and then took my left forearm in his hand and stroked it gently. He hesitated for a moment and then looked me in the eyes with a pained expression. "I would have preferred your infidelity than to think that you were doing what you were doing to yourself, Sookie."

"It was something I could control, when so much in my world had spun out of control," I whispered. "Even me. It brought me back to _myself_. I just can't explain it. I can't put it into words. And I'm very scared to think about how I'm not supposed to be doing it anymore."

"You are still yourself, Sookie. I've known you for more than a third of your life. You are still yourself. Even the fact that you care about who you are is indicative of that. You are a mixture of yourself and something new. And I will help you _not_ do it."

"Something new," I whispered, repeating his words. Something not horrible or hurtful or…?

He kissed my forehead and rubbed his face against it. I felt another wave of desire wash over me from feeling him so close to me and closed my eyes for a moment.

"Something entirely new… Beautiful, and stronger… Is it true you fly, Lover? Stefan said they told him that you flew and landed on the street at the main entrance," he said as he ran his index finger under the edge of my lace panty. "These have to be French. And they are so _very_ attractive on you. But so much black, Lover? You were not made to wear so much black. Although these are _very_ nice. I'm thoroughly going to enjoy removing them. _Slowly._"

My eyes opened and raced over him as if I stood, starved, before a feast. I was so close that I could practically taste him. I could literally smell his blood, which was so familiar to me. And I could smell other things I liked, as well. I was distracted by my overwhelming desire and just nodded to whatever he said as I pulled him closer to me. I leaned back into the pillows and pulled him onto me. I brushed my hand from his waist, smoothly down his back and butt and gasped softly, grabbing it. He felt so very good to touch, to look at, to smell. Firm, sinewy muscles, with skin that was still soft because he had been young when he had died. How I wanted him. I wanted to feel him everywhere on me, in me. Who cared about flying or French underwear or whatever damn color I wore?

"Pam is going to take the flying so badly, Lover. She'll be so jealous. She always wanted to fly. She is very fast. She can run like the wind. But she cannot fly."

I could no longer even formulate a reply or nod anymore. I couldn't fathom how Eric, if he _really_ felt the same urges I did, could even be talking about anything or anyone when all I could think of was biting and fucking and the taste of his blood, the taste of _him_. I wanted him pounding inside me. I felt like I was barely capable of being polite about getting what I wanted. I was really trying so hard to be nice, gentle and... So very, very hard… I clenched my jaw as I tried not to think of my favorite razor slicing into my thigh. I gasped slightly as I tried to pull back and look at his lips, and those very nice long fangs which could bite me in any number of pleasurable places… _Focus_, I said to myself. Focus on what he could do to me, rather than what I could do to myself. If he would just shut up.

"Lover, you look _so_ tense," he said with much merriment as he pulled me further under him, with a iron hand gripping my thigh, kissing my bent knee after stroking up from my inner thigh to grab my leg from behind my knee. He wrapped my legs around him and teased me, rubbing himself against me, even though the damn panty was still on. He raised an eyebrow and ran his tongue suggestively over his fangs. "If I didn't know better, I'd swear you were really horny,' he said playfully running his finger under the edge of the lace yet again. With an absolutely smug smile he said, "I'm trying to think about how to make you feel more relaxed and I'm torn between…"

I bit him.

He certainly couldn't say I hadn't warned him.


	6. Chapter 6

**VI.**

"So what is the forecast? Can you make do until say… 4 am?" he said with a wry smile.

I glanced over at the clock. It was 7:49 pm.

I bit my lip with my incisors and nodded with a slight smile. Two and a half hours was probably going to last me just fine until whenever I could get him alone again. All that time and no break. It was amazing… Okay, we had talked a good part of the time, but the _whole_ time we'd… He'd joked and called it vampire tantric sex. Whatever we called it, it still blew my mind. I didn't get sore. And I didn't get tired exactly. It was more like being soothed or calmed. In between the cataclysms. Soothed without sharp objects. Without pain. What a concept. And whenever I started to get too carried away, and then get freaked out, he'd start talking to me, get me to laugh or even just to be still. Already better than before dawn, when he'd laughed with genuine happiness in spite of the fact that I said I thought I was absolutely appalling.

"Well, my little tornado, I'm going to shower. You need to finish that up," he said, pointing to the bottle on the nightstand. He playfully pulled me back on top of him and kissed me again for a bit. Then he rolled me over and kissed me all down my torso onto my belly and right on my pubic bone before he rose from the bed.

"That was supposed to leave me calmer exactly how?" I said with a frown.

"Because you will think about the fact that you have had quite a bit of… attention. You will realize that it might be good to give it a rest. Surely you are not suggesting you think you need to give _me_ more attention? I'm an old man, after all. Are you trying to kill me?"

I rolled my eyes and groaned. With a sigh I said,

"I can't believe I missed the really bad jokes…"

"And I can't believe I just thought about getting back into the bed. What _is_ it with you? Andor's right. The damn fairy blood just is trouble no matter what we do with you, yes?" He smiled and then headed off to the bathroom. I heard him turn on the water in the shower.

My mind flashed back to earlier in the evening when, in throes of passion and pressed against a wall, his eyes had locked on mine just as I was feeling desperate for more… _everything_. I was very certain that biting him repeatedly was not a good plan, just as I was sure that _frenzy_ was probably not an option, either. Before dawn, frenzy had gotten me pressed face down, on my stomach in bed, and that was so much less fun because I could hardly move, even if he _had_ whispered in my ear that he wanted me more than ever. Already, by the evening, the strategy of talking me down seemed to be gaining a toehold somewhere in my horrible vampire brain.

"Shhhhh. Slow down. Talk to me… talk to me… Look at me Sookie," he'd said. "Talk to me."

In the midst of that primitive moment, I'd felt something relax inside, felt soothed, calmed, hearing his voice and seeing his eyes look softly at me. Snapping me back from some other wild Sookie to _myself_, without the need for sharp knives or razors. I felt lost in those eyes, suddenly still, calm. I could feel him in my mind, but felt safe letting him be there. He soothed me. I'd let go of his shoulders and touched his face and suddenly felt overwhelmed with a sense of tenderness instead of lust, passion, desire.

"I love you," I'd whispered, almost in awe of the feeling. "I love you so…"

He stopped cold and pressed hard into me as he leaned forward, his lips in contrast, meeting mine so softly. He smiled at me.

"The feeling is so very mutual," he said to me playfully.

"No... Say it back," I said tremulously. "I need to hear you say you love me."

He looked at me silently for just a moment. I read his thoughts and he was thinking about the irony of it, given things from long ago and the way things had been only a year ago, as well. I felt an intense craving inside, like hunger but more than just hunger. It felt painful, my wanting to have my feelings reciprocated so intensely. Was this how he had felt, I wondered? This frustration, craving something, someone, so strongly? How badly had it hurt to have heard instead, and repeatedly, that he was hated? Or for a time long ago to have heard simply nothing at all? I winced with the thought of it.

"Shhhh," he said soothingly, as I literally pushed back harder into the wall with the discomfort of my feelings. "You bewitched me long ago," he whispered, pressing hard into me again. "I love you. I am yours and you are mine_. _My blood, my wife, _mine._"

His eyes glowed as he said the words. The words seemed to fill something in me. And in that moment, finally, at long last, I got it. It was not ownership. It was a merging of oneself with another, even if you retained your sense of yourself as whole and distinct. Physically and emotionally, he was like a wash of color splashed across me and soaked throughout me. And I realized that I was the same for him. Even just from his having my blood these few times, I could feel him as I never had before. He was _in_ me_, _all throughout me.

More than an hour later here I was, lying there in the bed among the soft sheets, thinking that it was ironic that perhaps I'd had to die in order to truly understand what he felt for me. He'd had my blood, even that one night a year before, so that I could better feel him love me, want me, enjoy me, more intensely than ever. Tonight, I did not in the end, in spite of all my fears of no access to sharp objects, feel feral. We'd gone on making love, talking, laughing, all out fucking, and whispering about what he'd been doing the past year for more than two hours. He'd kept my mind and my heart too engaged to feel given over into the frenzy that I could get lost in. I was left with that indelible moment of understanding. His words, his eyes, resonating in my mind. I was not a human, not a vampire. I was his. And he was mine. It simply didn't matter what we were. Of course, not even a moment after feeling that, I started thinking about how long before it would be lost. Before it would end and I'd be alone and once again forlorn. I sighed, and tried to force myself to just focus on enjoying being home, feeling safe and loved. No matter how fleeting I feared that might be.

I finished my third bottle of True Blood since sunset, then got out of bed, slipped on my pink robe and went to the bathroom, where I sat cross-legged on the toilet while he showered. I was sorely tempted to get in the shower with him but knew it wasn't a good idea. He'd end up telling me no. We had to take a break he said. I knew he was right. He hadn't even checked his email, so he was already really running pretty late because of me. But I was so _very_ tempted to get in the shower with him. I looked away. What I wouldn't do to have a knife, or even a metal nail file right now...

As if he knew exactly, but _exactly,_ what I was thinking, Eric said,

"What are you thinking about?"

How to explain the craving for a blade with which I could… No. I couldn't. I tried to think of something positive to say, that wasn't going to upset him. I didn't want to think of him getting out of that shower and pressing me into a wall and extracting more promises about blades and such. I rolled my lower lip inward slightly and bit down discreetly with my fangs, tasting my blood.

"So were you kidding about Pam being jealous that I can fly?" I asked, looking away and trying to make light conversation as my lip resealed.

"Maybe. She'll envy you for it. I _saw_ you bite your lip, Sookie. And _that's_ out, too. Just talk it out, remember? Tell me?"

I glanced at him back in the shower and quickly looked away again. Oh… he was so totally kidding himself if he thought that talking about what I wanted to be doing was going to work in this case.

"It's better to just talk about Pam," I said firmly. "If I start talking about what I'm thinking about I really don't think it's going to help…at _all_."

"Fine. Distraction. Whatever works. No drawing your own blood. _Period._ So Pam being jealous? I was joking. Too busy. Pam's so taken with Stefan these days that a lot gets by her. Maybe before she would have been but now she'll just let the entire thing slide. In November she went two whole weeks without ticking me off. Cadel says she's gone totally soft."

He had now had my full attention for another reason. I gave him a puzzled look.

"What? What do you mean about Stefan?"

He turned around and looked at me through the glass-walls of the shower stall after wiping away a patch of steamy condensation.

"Didn't she tell you?"

"Tell me what?"

"Well, ever since you left, she and Stefan have been together. He had her stay with him from the first night you turned, because you were in her bed. And then, they just sort of continued whatever started from that time. Stefan has liked Pam for many, many years. But you know how Pam is. She is so emotionally cautious. In the beginning, she got really angry if anyone, even if _I_, mentioned anything about the two of them being together. She broke so many things tossing stuff at Cadel when he teased her about it that I had to forbid her to do so. And I forbad Cadel from mentioning Stefan to her at all for anything other than work. You know how they are with each other… He never misses an opportunity to get Pam going. Of course, Stefan was predictably quiet about everything, and made no comments about it to anyone, which is just what Pam likes. But after a while she's just become more settled with it. Now most people here know that they are together. I'm really surprised she didn't tell you. A measure of how serious it is can be taken from the fact that she's talked about knocking down the wall between their apartments evidently. Though not to me directly. Stefan asked me about it but the ideas for the unified space, the actual _details_, are so clearly Pam's."

I smiled as I thought about it. I liked Stefan so much. He was so gentle and good-hearted. He would be a good partner for Pam. She'd always seemed to like him though she had never admitted it, even to me. Stefan genuinely liked women and enjoyed women with opinions, much as Eric did. I reflected briefly on what Stefan had endured… I had seen some of what he had endured at the hands of Ocella, who had kept him longer than any other of his children. Stefan had been beautiful and fragile and Ocella had wanted to break him, truly _break_ him. Only an exceptional person could go through what he had and still retain so much of their humanity let alone do it as a vampire.

"Stefan is such a good person," I said. "I like him very much. I'm very glad for Pam. She's been on her own for so long. Hunter was with us so maybe she didn't want to talk about it in front of him. Like you say, she's so private about relationship stuff. We mostly talked about Hunter and Bronwyn."

"Did Hunter tell you about the Were?"

"He thought you didn't know. I just laughed at him. He practically smells like a Were. He might as well be using Were-scent as a personal fragrance."

Eric chuckled as he rinsed shampoo out of his hair. I watched the sudsy water trail down his shoulders, his back and… Ugh! I had to stop!

"Did he tell you the Were is Bennett's daughter, Caitlin? At least that background check was clean as a whistle…" he said with a chuckle.

I pulled my attention away from my cravings and reflected on Hunter. I was still having so much trouble dealing with the idea that Hunter had known. Every time the thought filtered into my mind, I was astonished. He'd made it clear that Eric did not know, which at least made that end of things easier. He thought I would be happy again. I hoped that did not mean 'just getting by' happy. I would have to find some core of happiness before even being able to talk with Hunter about what he had seen, and what he had kept secret. He'd known for years, it seemed. I thought back to his filthy room. He must have been quite consumed with guilt to be living like that, I thought to myself. But I was annoyed with Eric and Pam for _letting_ him live like that.

"Eric, did you know that Hunter's rooms were absolutely disgusting? And I mean _disgusting_. I can't believe that you didn't check on him and make him clean it up. It was horrible. I'm sure it's attracting bugs to the third floor it's so bad."

He was toweling off already. I attempted to bolt myself to my seated position and looked away while waiting for him to respond. It was so _very _distracting watching him. I couldn't believe that before I was turned that I could just sit there and have long conversations with Eric like this without batting an eyelash. Either something was very wrong with me then, or now, I thought to myself.

"Pam told me the first month that he was leaving everything a mess in there. She'd go in when he was out at night to just peer around and check on him for you. If you hadn't come back at the one year mark, I guess I'd have told him to get it in shape. But I figured he needed some way to express what he was going through and if it was just that, which I believe it was, I wasn't taking it away from him. He got straight A's both semesters, worked all summer sitting through countless meetings in your absence, much in excess of what he was originally doing just sitting in the great room scanning people for me. He was very responsible. I figured if that was how he wanted to deal with missing you, I ought to let him. It's his private space. I saw no harm in it."

"Well, I told him he had until sunset today to get it cleaned up. It was unhealthy and disgusting. And he wasn't just missing me. He was feeling guilty about the fact he knew this would happen to me and kept it secret. Which you already know all about it."

He turned and looked me directly in the eyes with an intense focus.

"I did not know he knew this would happen until hours after Pam had turned you. He firmly believes that he made the best choice, Sookie. He has suffered a great deal in thinking you would be angry with him. _I_ was angry with him. He really believed in what he was doing. And it is very obvious to me from talking to him over many months that his motivation was his inability to absorb the loss of the only person who truly understood him. He does not have your resilience. He is not as independent as you are. He was your child, for all intents and purposes, for these many years. He could not bear losing you. As for his rooms, would you have preferred him to drink? Smoke? Do drugs? Screw around excessively? Honestly, Lover, sometimes I think Hunter is so restrained for his age that it's unhealthy. Thank goodness for the pretty little Were. She's quite the spitfire according to Cadel. Although, I expect that now that Hunter's coming clean on the whole thing, Cadel is going to be all over him for dating a Were. But I happen to know dirt on Cadel in this regard," he said winking at me. "I'll have to drop some hints to Hunter on the subject of _foxes_. No matter what he plays at, Cadel has always liked Weres and weres. For a long time before it was fashionable for vampires to do so. He had a werefox girlfriend in Munich for quite some time. He just doesn't know that Stefan and I know about her. So you have talked to Hunter, then?"

"Only a bit. I can't talk about it yet too much. I'm still just so shocked by it."

"He loves you a great deal, Sookie. He loves you more than he fears me, that's for certain."

"I don't think he has enough sense to be afraid of any of you."

"He should be afraid of me. I can still beat him at chess."

I paused for a moment thinking that this conversation was so… normal. I sat there and felt, for the first time in a year, that my life… well, my _existence_… was almost what it had been before. As if in that moment I had almost gotten back on some path I'd been on before that December City Council meeting. Before the night that derailed life as I knew it. It would never be the same for me. It could not be. But at least I felt as if I was _myself_. My eyes filled with tears.

Eric spun around and crouched down in front of me, turning my face to his.

"What's wrong? What is it?" he said softly. He looked a bit alarmed.

I couldn't reply for a minute. Then I finally said,

"It just felt… normal. Like me, almost like my life used to be. For the first time in a year. I just felt like me. Even last night, when I was with Hunter, just as I was feeling like it was all okay, I hugged him, smelled him and got hungry. But just now, just talking, I felt like… me. Almost like it was still my life, _our_ life."

He held my face in his hands tenderly.

"It _is _still our life, Lover. Haven't you found anything that you enjoy about being vampire at all?"

"My friend, Mathilde, she had me make a list for myself."

"Your _friend_ in Amsterdam is Mathilde _van Voorten_?" he said with a snort. "How on earth did you make a friend of her? She's head of that entire coven in Amsterdam is she not? Not that I follow witches much, but she is very well known."

'"She was in Paris, researching in the national library when I was. She likes to do all her own research. We eyed each other every day for a few weeks in February and March. We were researching in the same section, Département Surnaturelle. I was reading ancient vampire history and lore she was reading about Weres. I would come in during their early evening hours and she would have been there in the afternoon and would be finishing when I was just starting. But one day in late March, she stayed a little later and I finished earlier than usual. We left separately but close in time. There was a lot of traffic because of a demonstration in the streets. I think that one was about the new climate change accords? There are always so many strikes and demonstrations in Paris it's hard to keep track. It's quite tiresome. Well, unless you believe in the cause or something. You know, after my big fascination with the Revolution and everything, to go there and see all the demonstrations and stuff in France is really amazing. Mobs are really rather frightening. I can't imagine living back then."

He snorted again, but I ignored him since he appeared to think I was 'amusing'.

"Well, anyway, she got distracted looking at the protestors and she was bumped by a car while crossing a street. She was looking the opposite way, at the crowd, and lost her footing. She fell and bumped her head. I helped her up but she refused assistance. She was a bit unsteady on her feet so I sort of followed after her, from above, to be sure she was okay. She's much older than she looks and I was worried she wouldn't just 'bounce back', you know? She was really kind of out of it and she looked it, too. Some guy mugged her near a Métro entrance and tried to get away by entering the station. So I jumped down and caught the guy and retrieved her bag and purse, but she really seemed like the bump on her head had made her quite disoriented. I was really afraid for her. So I glamoured her a bit and then gave her some of my blood. I had her lead me to her apartment and then saw her inside and left. You can't even imagine how angry she was when she realized what I'd done. Because I didn't do anything to alter her memories, I just made her let me give her blood and lead me to her home, to be sure she'd be okay. I don't like the idea of changing someone's memories unless you really have to. Well, she and her sister Beatrix found me at the library the following day and it was like the Inquisition."

I frowned with the memory.

"Beatrix was so very upset, thinking I'd done something to Mathilde. She made all kinds of threats. They just couldn't believe that I didn't have an agenda or something. I even told them I was really young and that my blood would wear off her very quickly. They didn't care. They made all kinds of threats about what they'd do to me. I finally had to tell them to leave me alone. The next day I even went to the history stacks and read there to avoid them. I was reading about the Roman Republic. But they found me and started arguing all over again. I told them that if they planned to get rid of me to just get it over with already because they were disturbing my research and it was very annoying. They came back the next day again and I told them to leave me alone or I'd complain to the library staff. They actually laughed at the idea of a vampire complaining to the library about witches. Eventually we just started talking about books and history and I guess they decided I was sort of okay. They got me to visit them one night at their apartment and Mathilde slammed me into a confinement spell to try to question me more. It ended up being really funny. We just became friends. So that was back in March. I went to Amsterdam to visit them several times starting in early June. In the summer it was very hard to keep up with my research because the library hours were too short for me. It closed at 8 pm. So I had to stick to books I could buy, on regular Roman history, a lot of time and books about the supernatural were just not an option. But the Voortens have a private library in Amsterdam and she invited me so that I could see what they might have that would be useful. Plus, Mattias can translate all kinds of ancient languages. It was a lot easier than what I was doing, using internet translators online with my phone and stuff. If I spent time in their library I didn't have to try to hide in the National Library and stuff. I'd thought about doing that but felt bad about. Plus, it seemed really risky."

He shook his head. "This is the kind of thing that I worry about with you, Sookie. You just gave a witch your blood? Just like that, and then told her not to worry because you were very young? You went alone, to visit these witches, who were angry at you, in their apartment, got yourself spelled and it was _funny_?"

"They weren't angry anymore when I went to the apartment. Otherwise I wouldn't have gone. We really became friends, Eric. It _was_ funny. And she didn't spell _me_. She caught me in a warded circle inside the door of their flat in Paris. I mean, they invited a vampire into their home, okay? Not like a trivial thing from their perspective, especially since I was young and ought to be _starving_ all the time, right? So I guess they were justified keeping themselves safe. It really smacked me the first time I tried to get out because I didn't realize what it was. It knocked me off my feet and really smarted. The ward was under a rug. I pulled up the throw rug and looked at the writing really carefully then realized it was just a simple ward that I'd stepped into. So I took off one of my boots and burned it almost to a cinder rubbing out a portion of the pentagram circle and breaking it. Then I just sat on the floor where I was, so they'd feel safer and I talked to them. They gave me a four pack of True Blood and we chatted about books and things. Beatrix said clearly I knew a lot more about witches and wards than your average vampire. Mathilde found out who I was, but I still have no idea how she did. Maybe just from the US media reports or whatever. When I finally showed up in Amsterdam in June she just introduced me to her family as Sookie Northman instead of Marie Hale."

He looked at me apprehensively.

"Where did you stay in Amsterdam?" he asked, already seeming to grit his teeth.

"In their cellar. Very light tight. She made sure it was safe by warding it and putting up blackout curtains over all the openings."

He looked horrified, and the tension in his jaw showed more than just concern.

"You went and stayed with a bunch of witches that you barely knew, trusting them not to harm you during the day, Sookie?" His tone was simply incredulous.

"She was inordinately kind to me, Eric. She really wanted to protect me. And I could read their minds when I wanted to, remember? I _knew_ I was safe with them. She helped me a great deal. I eventually told her about Amelia and our business but she already knew about that, too. She teases me and calls me their witchy little vampire. Really, maybe things would not have gone as well in Buenos Aires without her help. She taught me how to spell my stake, which was really little more than an oversized silver loaded pencil that I had in a pencil case with real pencils. It was ash and loaded with magic, to prevent it from breaking, to find it's true mark, to make its wielder only a woman and after adding my blood, only me. We wove all kinds of things into it. And she gave me my talisman. I think she knew that I was hurting myself. It made me need to do it a little less. Because up until late June, it was _really_ bad. I was cutting myself so many times a night, especially on my thighs. Wearing it made me do it less. It was like the runes were already there or something. I don't know... Anyway, she told me if I couldn't come home, that I could live among them in Amsterdam. The Voortens almost all live in a large square near Felix Meritis. Mattias, the one with the library, is the oldest. I found out so much more about vampires of Ocella's era in his books. Mattias loved my notebooks. I mailed them home before I left Buenos Aires. You'll get to see them. I'm very proud of all my research. Anyway, they all knew I was… different from a regular vampire, somehow. They genuinely liked me because I _was _different. That's something I have seldom experienced."

Eric looked at me as if taking it all in hungrily, these details of the life I'd been leading away from him. Yet at the same time you didn't have to be a telepath to see he was so completely dismayed by risks I had taken that he didn't even begin to know where to start. But not wanting to upset me, he skipped it.

"So you made a list of what you liked about being vampire?" he said, steering things back to safer ground.

I hesitated and nodded once.

"And?" he pressed.

"It's pretty short."

"What is on this list?"

I met his eyes. I said guardedly,

"No more nightmares. Possibility of killing Ocella to protect you. Possibility of staying with you for a longer time, if I lived through killing Ocella."

He paused before commenting, to see if there was more. Then, when he understood there _wasn't_ more, he turned away shaking his head and murmured something to himself in Norse, which I obviously couldn't understand. He looked back at me, and in a rare moment, rolled his eyes.

"Well, we need a longer list, Lover," he said, making an effort to sound lighthearted about it. But I could plainly see, without the need for any telepathic tricks, that he was _very_ distressed. "You're going to have to put more serious effort into it. Clearly, the witch didn't know you at all and couldn't tell you were shirking. You can work harder on it. I'm sure of it."

I shrugged. There was, in my mind, not much more to say, really, than those.

"Do you like to fly?"

"Bugs. Smog. Not really as impressive in fact as it sounds in theory."

"Strength?"

"Not at _all_. I accidentally broke a glass with True Blood in a café the first week I was in Paris just by squeezing it too hard when I was thinking about something distressing. Everyone stared at me. I was very embarrassed. It got all over my clothes. I found out that True Blood stains just like real blood. I actually think that's how Delatour found out about me, because I attracted attention to myself in a public place and was clearly a vampire. Anyway, I didn't drink in cafés or in public at all after that. And I only wore black, so blood wouldn't show. Too much chance for attracting unwanted attention with the strength thing. Plus, I bent the door handle on balcony door in my apartment without meaning to and had the devil of a time fixing it. I thought I was going to have to replace the handles and I was really mad because they matched throughout the entire apartment and I really love my apartment's hardware because it was really old and in beautiful condition."

"You stayed in an apartment? Where?"

"In the sixth arrondissement. On the Rue de Verneuil, near Rue de Poitiers. That's near the Musée D'Orsay? There are many cafes and galleries nearby. It's very nice. I told Pam she can stay in it whenever she wants. As long as she's careful to clear it with the creep, Delatour, to be in Paris at all and makes it plain that she's not interested in his hijinks. If you can spare them both, she should definitely take Stefan with her, though, to be on the safe side. Clearly in _his_ mind, any unaccompanied woman is available, whether she intends to be or not."

He looked surprised. "Wait a minute, you mean you _bought_ the apartment?"

I nodded.

"Yes. The third week I was there. I bought the apartment and put Hunter's name on the deed, too. Since it was mine I could make it light proof, as I wished. Then I didn't have to worry about hotels or anything. I could grow things. It was much nicer. It's only four rooms, but it's very nice. I grew flowers on the balcony just like I grow things here at home. Although, I gave them to my neighbor before I left for Peru since I didn't know if I'd really come back. The building manager was supposed to contact Hunter through Mr. Cataliades if I wasn't not in contact with him by the second week of January. But I emailed him yesterday."

He looked at me with such intensity. I met his eyes but then looked away because my own started to glow. I could feel it, feel the stirring, tried to push it down again. He was so very naked and close to me. He was so damned… attractive. And we were supposed to be having a serious conversation… Maybe this is how human men feel with women, I thought in passing? I had to ask Pam if it had been this way for her because really… it was very annoying.

"In case you didn't return from Ocella…"

I just nodded trying to stay focused on the conversation. Celibacy was really hard when you were a vampire. Or more like it was hard when you _stopped_ being celibate. Then sex became one of the only things you thought about, evidently. This was very troubling.

"You were so determined to kill him?" he asked, looking at me as if still so amazed that I had done what I had done.

"Determined isn't really a strong enough word for it, but yeah, sure. I was very determined.."

"You could have glamoured him and then tortured him."

I glanced back at him, wide-eyed. Well, _that_ really broke the spell of the attraction for the moment…

"I'd _never_ do such a thing, Eric. Not even for you. That would make me no better than he was. He had only seconds of the awareness of pain, and of your name. It was exactly as it should be."

"I'm not quite sure that all of us would agree, but I'm also not one to tell you how to do us a favor," he said with a chuckle. "And on the positive side, whatever your qualms about the whole lusting for sex issue, it really seems like you have the violence issues that you always disliked under excellent control, doesn't it?"

I didn't reply. I still was not very comfortable with a lot of different things, the violence thing being just one of them. The sex thing was pretty disturbing. And then there was the love thing. Mostly, I was not too hopeful about how this _whole_ thing was supposed to work between us, in general. I felt so bound to and into him, and yet I wasn't sure how long that would last from his perspective.

"You know, speaking of lust, I've actually been thinking about what you describe and how you seem to feel. I know you say that you don't want to try feeding from a human, but I..."

I shifted uncomfortably back from him and tensed up.

"Hear me out, Sookie..." he said putting his hands on my knees. "I actually think this that is what has made it so hard for you. Because _not_ feeding removes the strongest sensation you have as a vampire. If you take away that and replace it with a glass or a bottle, and you clearly don't like ripping people to shreds, then when you're young, it leaves you with...?" and then he looked at me with pursed lips. "So basically, unless you want to try feeding from a donor... and I'm not pushing you to... I want you to be happy and comfortable... then I think you'll just have to ride it, the lust, out until it passes. It will abate with time. But being away for your first year, well, it's like saying that you fasted when you were at your hungriest."

I looked away. I felt ashamed of how out of control I could get. If he hadn't been so much stronger than I was, I'd literally have been afraid of hurting him. He seemed not to mind how I was at all, a point I couldn't begin to understand.

"How can you like me like this?"

"I _love_ you. And I was fasting, too. Besides, with every hour that passes with us together, I see more and more of the playful you. We will be fine, Lover. Really, we will."

He leaned forward and kissed me softly.

"I still can't believe that you _bought_ an apartment in Paris," he muttered to himself. "What were you thinking, Sookie? All this time, what were you thinking staying so far away from me, so far from home?" he said softly.

In years past I had struggled to learn how to tell him how I really felt about emotional issues like this. Now the hurdle seemed higher than ever before. He looked me in the eye and reached out and stroked my cheek. How could I even begin to explain what I had been thinking and doing for the past year? Beyond what I'd told him about aspects of my life in Paris and Amsterdam, I really couldn't.

"Don't you have to get moving Eric? You're going to be so late."

"I canceled everything for the night."

I looked back at him in stunned surprise.

"You… what?"

"Canceled the schedule for the evening, yes. I decided I didn't want to be stuck in meetings all night, so…" he reached for the phone on the bathroom counter, picked it up and turned it off and smiled. "I sent Stefan a message before I started to shower. I canceled everything for the night. It's one of the benefits of being in charge. Even if it looks capricious, it is my will. You just got back and I wish to spend time with you. You are looking better, feeling better, acting more like yourself with my spending time with you. So what were you thinking…? When you were hidden away from me, what was your rationale?"

I smiled wanly but didn't reply at first. I hesitated and then finally said,

"I had my plan, of course, and that required time to focus and study. But more than that, I guess I didn't think you'd want me to come back. I was so horrible and you were so angry. Not that I could blame you exactly. Basically, I thought I'd come back and that you'd just tell me to go to hell. I bought the apartment so that I'd at least have a place to stay that was mine, that was away from here. By the time I went to Peru I figured I'd just come back and tell you what I'd done and that would be the end of it. I didn't know exactly what I'd choose to do then. About myself, I mean. Mathilde's talisman is spelled with all kinds of things to keep me from harming myself permanently I think. I stopped thinking about the dawn in a strong urge kind of way. Though she didn't know exactly why I was going to kill a vampire in South America, because I'm not so sure that they have access to the database and knew it had to be _your_ sire I was after, I think she worried that when I was done with the whole business that I'd be done with myself. I told her I was coming back to Louisiana to just visit. She never asked me exactly why I left. But anyway, in order learn how to spell my stakes, I had to agree to wear the talisman for _two_ years. I had this fantasy about just going back to Paris for a year and a half and then watching the sun rise over Paris from top of the Cathedral or something. Although, I still worried about what would happen with Hunter. So I didn't know what I'd do after Ocella, really. I didn't have a clear plan. Beyond that, it really didn't seem important- what I'd do, where I'd go. I just had to get rid of him for you. For the four of you. And then what I did didn't matter. My promise to you would expire and soon enough my promise to Mathilde would expire and I could see the sun again if I wanted to."

I sighed and didn't even bother looking at him. I could feel what he thought…

"So Mathilde knew what you were doing to yourself?"

"I think she knew. The runes on the talisman were ones I put in my flesh. Somehow she knew. Sometimes I did have trouble reading her. But I could see that her intentions with me were always benevolent. In the end she even made me promise that I'd come back to Amsterdam if I didn't stay here in Louisiana. She wouldn't let me alone about it. She actually offered that I could live in the cellar of their home. That they would renovate it and make it much more livable. But I told her that I would prefer to live apart from them if I came back. I found an area I like very much. The Jordaan? A lot of galleries, cafes. I enjoyed the ambiance. I even looked at houses and apartments there. But time was too tight for me to look in great depth. I was preparing to go to Peru and needed to go back to Paris and set things in order there. Anyway, I gave her my word that I'd come back to Amsterdam if I couldn't stay here in New Orleans. I guess if I couldn't stay here, then I could easily live there in the Jordaan. I like the Dutch. They seem so… very tolerant of all of us. I did not feel like I was out of place there. Yeah, I could live there… Although my spoken Dutch is still so bad," I murmured.

He looked at me and shook his head, making a slow huff sound.

"How could you possibly think I wouldn't want you to come home?" he said in disbelief.

"Because I was horrible. Truly horrible. Yes, I was murdered. Yes, Pam turned me against my wishes, by mistake, but even in the state I was in, I could still feel her grief and fear about what she'd done. I knew it was really a mistake on her part. But I was angry you let the mistake stand. And this is all without getting into the whole issue of Hunter. Any way you look at it, I was absolutely horrible to you. I was so angry that it was against my will. I felt violated. But no matter what the excuse, I was just horrible. To the person I loved most."

"For _two _nights. Not even two _whole_ nights. Do you honestly think that you could obliterate fifteen years because of only two nights of anger?"

"With the right kind of anger… yes. Absolutely."

"Sookie, do you honestly think that I would throw away fifteen years with someone I genuinely love because of two nights when you had a _reason_ to be angry? How could you think that I would find nothing salvageable in you, in _us_ because of two nights? You know, that's almost as upsetting to me as running away or stabbing and cutting yourself."

"You've put up with a lot because of me, Eric. I've brought you harm. I've brought you strife. And I don't quite fit. Even now. I make things harder. Look at Andor, who doesn't…"

He cut me off.

"We have not been easily bound into each other's lives. But we have 'put up with it' because we loved each other. And the fuck with Andor! Andor has _always_ been like this, Sookie. After a thousand plus years of Andor, I know exactly far he stretches. He does not deal with change or the unorthodox well. He likes rules and is very old-fashioned, _especially _about women. He was barely married, never a parent. What was Andor's life experience before he was changed? A chieftain's son with access to any pretty slave he saw? You have challenged his every conception of what a woman, let alone a woman with a vampire, is supposed to be. But no matter what Andor says or how he acts, he _does_ like you. And he respects you a great deal. He just does not understand you or _us_. You and I together are a mystery to him that he does not comprehend. He was angry because I was hurt by your leaving, and couldn't comprehend why I was so confident that we would be fine when you return. He does not understand."

I tried to absorb the thought that Andor respected me. I wasn't so sure, especially not after this latest round of adversity. And part of me couldn't understand Eric's confidence that we would be fine when I returned. It was so hard to hang onto those moments of feeling that I understood and trusted to his feelings for me, like that one earlier in the evening. So very hard to believe that his feelings would last any significant period of time. And yet, my love for him was the reason I'd come back. In spite of all my fears.

"My loving you was the only reason that I decided to even try to come back at all. And even then, I considered whether my coming back would just make me angry all over again. I was afraid of that. I seriously considered just sending you the ring, along with the notebooks. So that you would know you were really free. All of you," I whispered.

"Then I _would_ have gone after you. Just as I did before, and I'd have stopped at nothing to find you," he said shaking his head. He looked kind of disgusted. "You know, I can't believe you at times,"

"I have the potential to weaken your position Eric. Having an out of control vampire wife doesn't appear to be high on anyone's list of assets. And it's a huge step down from the nice little blonde human wife who helped your mainstreaming image."

His mood shifted slightly at that idea.

"Are you planning to remain permanently out of control? You look so innocent and calm in your pink bathrobe. Are you sure about this?" he said, looking at me with amusement, tugging on the front of my bathrobe so more cleavage showed. "You really don't look all that potentially damaging from the present vantage point."

I swatted his hand away because that was the very_ last_ thing I was going to need to stay on track in this conversation.

"Seriously, you know how I am, Eric. Look at what Andor said about rules or protocols or whatever. I've never been a very polished person. My temper so often gets the better of me. Ask Nan Flanagan. And _now_? What kinds of things could I do now if I'm angry? I have bad memories of what Cadel can do when he gets angry. Or what I've heard you've done when you're angry. So, I'm just a real prize now, aren't I? It's not like I'm going to lie to myself and say I was the easiest person to live with before. But look at me now… Yeah, I'm thinking I should keep practice my Dutch dipthongs."

"I don't give a damn about Nan Flanagan or the lovely mainstreaming human wife angle. Never have and never well. And as for the protocol business… you showed me respect in public, Sookie. That's all the protocol required. You really _are_ outside the box as my wife, and everyone knows that. You were before and it won't take much advising people about the fact that you still are now. I have ways of making the message rather clear." He smiled with fangs.

I was just quiet. After a moment's thought and making a dissatisfied huff, he asked,

"If you really believed I would not take you back, why even bother going after Ocella?"

"But, I told you before. I couldn't stand the idea he could go after you. No matter where I'd end up, I wanted to do it. For you, for all of you. I worried about what could happen if he came back. What he could do to any of you, or to Pam or Markus to hurt you or Andor. You were my family. And after I met him, talked to him, saw his thoughts, I was even more worried."

He looked at me soberly, shaking his head.

"You just have no idea how lucky you were. I could have lost you and I'd never have known what happened to you unless he came looking to tell me because he got it out of you who you were to me. I don't even want to imagine what he would have done to you if he'd found out you were my wife." He looked away shaking his head as if horrified by that thought.

"I wrote you a letter. It was in the apartment. It was a letter of apology, and I told you what I'd gone to do and that if you had the letter, it meant I was dead for good. I didn't want you _not_ to know what had happened. You always hated that, and I saw what that had done to… a friend… who had something sort of similar happen. Not knowing. It's a very bad thing on a person."

He snorted.

"A letter. A _letter_ telling me you'd gone after my sire? Charming."

"I knew it was a crazy plan. But it was _my_ plan. And I knew once I met him that if I could get past the whole being scared of him thing, my plan would work, too. Because I played to his greatest weakness. He was so in need of appreciation."

"Appreciation?"

"He enjoyed my understanding of just how remarkable he was, and how remarkable his history was. It was beyond his wanting flattery. He wanted genuine appreciation of what and who he was. But he was living a discreet life. So such recognition was hard to come by, because he was very conflicted about being recognized."

"He was not happy about being found then?"

I looked at him narrow eyed and shook my head.

"Well you don't change your name five times if you're eager to have people find you, right? Even Eduard Delatour only changed his name once and that was for convenience and property. Let's just say that you four aren't his only dissatisfied customers. No, 'Jesús' was _not_ very delighted initially when I found him and introduced myself and appeared to know exactly who he really was. If ever there was a time when he was likely to kill me that was it. I really think he would have too, if we hadn't been talking in such a public place. He didn't want to attract further attention to himself. I had to assure him of my utmost discretion and desire to maintain his privacy by using a pseudonym or just saying he was anonymous. That the only thing I wanted was the history. _His_ glorious history."

"How did you do it, Sookie? Convince him to talk to you? I still cannot fathom it, having known the man," he whispered, almost to himself.

"I studied long and hard, Eric. I was truly a historian. You'll see it in all my notes. And I was a woman. He didn't like women much. But in the end he trusted me _because_ I was a woman. There was no reason for him to think some little vampire woman was out to get him. And I was so young. His complete underestimation of me was surely his downfall. By the third time I met with him with all my cool notebooks and carefully prepared questions he was actually enjoying himself, enjoying that fact that I really appreciated his incredible history."

He gave me a strange look.

"Sometimes you sound almost as if you admired him."

"No. But it was amazing to talk with him. To hear his perspective on history. Not just vampire history, but _history_. It's like talking to you about the French Revolution and Napoleon or about the Renaissance, except that it was all the way back to the Roman Republic. He'd known some very ancient vampires. What he had seen, had learned, it was quite fascinating. On the other hand, what he'd been _doing_ throughout history… well…"

"I still have trouble envisioning how this played out."

"It was many hours of talking, his getting distracted with his sense of his own importance, and my being really fast taking out my oversize ash pencil."

"Weren't you afraid to be there with him? I cannot envision it. You could see his thoughts, his memories. How could you not be afraid of him?"

"When I first met him, first let him get the idea that I _knew_ his real identity, it was very scary. But for the rest, no. I had nothing to lose and everything to gain for the people I loved. It was like another iteration of all the risks I've taken in the past that paid off. I was already dead, after all, and I haven't been _afraid_ to die for years. I was only afraid of being… Like this," she whispered. "So of course, that is exactly what got handed to me."

He looked sadly at me.

"Have you really found nothing else that makes you enjoy being vampire?"

"I don't get blisters on my feet. I don't have to shave my legs and stuff. I don't have to worry when I break a nail. But compared to the other three things on my list, those seem rather trivial, you know?"

"Maybe in the end you can add sex to the list of advantages?"

"So being out of control with you, or walking around with all kinds of urges, attracting people I have no real interest in, is an advantage in your eyes? Very interesting. I'd have certainly thought otherwise given your track record of snarling over my head at anyone looking at me a little too closely. And then there was that whole being forbidden to um… well, I don't think I want to go over that one again. Definitely not a good moment, not by a long shot, that night…"

"You still seem to be enjoying yourself quite a bit, no?"

"Maybe too much, at least when I think about trying to retain who I _am_." I looked away. Yeah, somehow being in a frenzy over sex just didn't quite seem like me…

"As I said, it will improve. And in the interim, the only way to learn the self-control is to test your self-control, right? Practice resisting a bit, slowing down, staying calm. You are so playful at heart. To be playful requires slowing down."

"I'm thinking I'm _so_ not succeeding then, Eric." At least not without the assistance of something nice and sharp to keep my thoughts under control or letting him sort of put my mind in a vise grip or something.

He looked at me and laughed.

"If it makes you feel any better, I'm thoroughly enjoying myself. We can go on working on it. In the meantime, I'm planning to come up with creative ways to satisfy your... " he gave me a very wry smile and licked his lips, "needs."

I gave him a dark look.

"Uh huh. Right. What ways?" I asked crossing my arms.

"No need to start worrying yourself. Maybe less black, and a little less… coverage. Especially since you won't get cold now. I'm thinking along the lines of things that Nan Flanagan would love to see you in. But discreetly, so don't start giving me that look. No squandering of your underlying values. And I can still think of many, many things we have not tried. I will keep you quite busy. In any case, you should shower and I will check my email."

"MmmmHmmm," I said nodding. I uncrossed my legs and stretched them out, then hugged them around his hips.

"What do you want to do tonight? Stay here? Go out?" he said in a jovial tone.

"I don't know."

He shifted my legs, rose and then bent down to kiss me.

"Then shower and get dressed. We're going out."

"Where?" I asked, somewhat apprehensively. I was dreading all the explaining myself to friends and family that lay ahead of me.

"Don't worry. I want to show you the most recent renovations at the estate. You'll need to help make decisions with me about where we go from here with it. I'll do my email. Then we can go."

After showering I stood in my closet trying to decide what to wear. I still wanted to wear black. I compromised and put on black slacks and a dark blue top and a red scarf with my black leather jacket. Eric looked none to pleased but said nothing. I was surprised when we left the rooms that instead of going downstairs, as in heading to the garage, we went upstairs to the roof, where Andor and Cadel awaited. I looked askance at Eric.

"I want to see you fly, Lover," he murmured with a smile.

"I'm really hoping she flies faster than she drives because otherwise you can just meet me there," said Cadel with a smirk.

With a quick kiss to Eric, made on tiptoe, I flew off the roof and was gone in the blink of an eye. Maybe even in a vampire's eye. I was quite fast. It was, however, annoying that when I alighted just inside the main gate of the estate and started walking toward the main house, I found Cadel playing a game on his phone while sitting cross-legged atop the porte-cochère. He looked up casually and said,

"You know, they don't give tickets for flying too fast. You've no need to worry. You can really let loose in the air. No need to be so slow and cautious." He sighed. "I was beginning to get quite bored waiting. You're almost as slow as… Never mind."

Eric alighted right next to me.

"Cadel, you really need to watch your mouth," said Eric.

"Last, I looked it was just fine, Eric. Even had all my teeth. A rarity among the 17th Century Welsh, I assure you. Can you say the same, my Viking brother?"

Eric flew at him but Cadel was gone, in a trail of laughter, by the time Eric had moved the twenty feet or so to the top of the port-cochère and was grabbing at empty air.

No, Cadel was standing right next to me and punched a finger at his iPhone game with relish. Without even looking up at Eric, he said,

"You know, I've got a date later. She looked rather… open-minded, if you take my meaning. I'd like to put the move on this little venture since it was, technically, my night off. Do we have to wait for Andor? Can't he just find us? It could take hours if we have to wait."

Suddenly, Andor rested a heavy hand on Cadel's shoulder.

"Eric, I've forgotten… Was I letting his insults pass or…"

Cadel was gone, with another trail of laughter as the only clue as to his direction and Eric was instantly back at my side. He picked up my hand and we walked to the main doors and he unlocked them. Andor trailed behind us.

All the public rooms were now renovated. I'd picked, along with Pam, a lot of the finishing elements of the renovation. From mouldings to wallpapers and fabrics and banisters, to built-in shelving in the library. Pam had been busy selecting furniture. It looked beautiful. It was obvious that no further work had been done upstairs, however. We walked outside in the dormant garden. I could see that all the roses had been pruned back for winter and realized that Pam must have taken over my supervising the gardeners. I had left her with so much extra work by my leaving, I thought to myself. And likely Amelia, too. I shuddered to imagine what had become of the job for Maude.

While Cadel and Andor milled around the grounds, Eric and I sat up on top of the gazebo. He scooted up behind me and then pulled me toward him so that I could lean back against him.

"So do you like it enough to live here? Should we sink more into it? Because to make it really livable for the eight of us, I'm thinking we'd almost double what we've already spent. That's not even considering the revolving expenses of additional staff, security… But we'd have greater privacy. And that separation from being so close to work."

I started thinking about time, as in length of time in the future to be spent with Eric, and I started to feel uneasy. How long, I wondered? How long before…

"What's wrong?" he asked softly, leaning his chin against my head. "You went all sad."

"I don't know. You really don't think I'll end up in Amsterdam, eventually?" I asked softly. "Maybe you should just do what _you_ want with it, Eric."

He leaned around to look at me more closely and then shook his head and looked away.

"You know, I'm really hoping after a few centuries that you'll have a better opinion of me, Lover. Exactly what is the basis of this ongoing theory, may I ask? I always had such a high opinion of you. It's really distressing at this point that you have such a poor one of me. Only one of us here has had a tendency to walk away and it certainly wasn't me."

"You know what I meant, Eric." I said hastily, regretting that I'd even said what was on my mind.

"Amsterdam is _not_ an option." He sighed heavily. "So Mrs. Northman, we have to decide what we're going to do with this place. Do we want to renovate it to live here or not? This is the question of the hour… More construction or not? We're not getting lost in some ruminative and unfounded musings about things that are not going to happen. I'm trying to have a constructive conversation. Ah… now that _was_ a bad one…" he chuckled to himself.

I groaned internally at the pun.

_I know you love me, Eric. I feel you do. But I guess my point is that I wonder how long that lasts. And part of me feels like you're asking me to plan for a future I'm not sure I'll have for all that long compared to how long _I'm_ likely to last. I'm having adjustment issues with that thought. I don't want make a bunch of plans and then find that things are over. So maybe it's better for you to make things as you wish and I'll just go with that.  
_

_You're pissing me off. I have no idea how long it 'lasts' because I've never had it before. And I think I'm in a position to be far more concerned than you are, given our history of your taking off. If we last even half as long as your fears seem to last, we evidently have eternity. And I seem to have made a vow that pretty much guaranteed you that. Watch it, or I'll make you do the whole thing all over again with no exit option in that one, either. Now,_

"Do you want to live here, or not, Sookie? It's really a simple yes or no question."

"I guess so. It's kind of fancy but I guess it would be nice to be in a real house, and to have a garden."

"That's a yes? It sounds mostly like a yes?" he sighed as he pulled me closer around the waist and bent his head to rub his chin on my shoulder.

In something of a non sequitur I murmured, "I think I'm almost as fast as Cadel," rather impressed with myself. "I think he'd just sat down and was faking that he'd been there for a bit. Cadel's such a faker for some things... I think he almost had me tricked."

"Well, I wasn't even trying to be fast and you are not answering me. We have to come to a decision, Sookie. Yes or no?"

"I like it here," I said softly.

He started tickling me while grumbling about how utterly impossible I was.

"Yes!" I managed to squeak out with my laughter. I was still so very ticklish.

"Ah, the evening wind has spoken at last..." he practically purred in my ear.

"It's awfully far from where my date is, though," said Cadel, unexpectedly from behind us.

"Good thing you're so fast then, isn't it?" retorted Eric.

Cadel stepped carefully, balancing on the edge next to us as he sat.

He glanced over at me and pretended to do a double take.

"Bloody hell! What happened? She's a _vampire,_ Eric!" he said with an expression of mock dismay.

Eric shook his head with feigned disgust.

"Just go on your way, Cadel. I'm sure we'll be fine with Andor," he said.

"Don't know about that. He's got no sense of humor. It pains me to call him a _blood_ relation. I'm not sure I'll let the two of you alone with him. She's looking rather fragile still. I'm thinking he'll drain all the remaining joy out of her with his piss poor attitude. I'd best stay."

"You just want to stay to piss him off," said Eric with wry smile.

"There is that, yeah. So Solsken Sookie likes it here but no one ever thinks to ask Andor, Stefan, Markus or me if _we_ like it. It's all about Sookie and Pamela. I'm feeling very second class at the moment. I guess the Boyo doesn't count, either?"

_Why is he calling you that?_

_He's hacked my email account. That's the name of it._

He stiffened and at first I thought he was going to be angry and start questioning _when_ Cadel had hacked into my account. But he surprised me.

_You loved your sunshine so much, min älskade. I do not ever take for granted all the many things you have given up to be with me. By choice or no. That alone ought to make you think about how easily I could discard your affection._

My eyes welled with tears and I turned away, pressing my face into his shoulder. He combed his fingers through my hair. We'd each cost each other quite a bit at various times in the past fifteen years.

"I'm thinking the silence is admission of guilt. So I'll just say that I like the place. It would be nice to be away from the bustle some of the time. I know you'll laugh to hear me say it, but it's true. Of course, Stefan will like it because Pamela likes it. But he might have liked it anyway, before she tried telling him what to like. He does like quiet and gardens. Being from that privileged background and all. Are you two listening to a bloody word I say? All caught up in your silent conversations? You'd think you hadn't seen each other in forever. Oh yeah," he said snapping his fingers, "that's right…"

"Cadel?" I said quietly.

"Fy chwaer?"

"Are you ever going to quit kidding around?"

He seemed to hesitate but then quickly said,

"Nah. Probably not. Old habits and all."

I smiled and hugged Eric's arm closer.

"Good," I said softly.

From the other side of the gazebo, Andor's low voice rumbled,

"Living in America is no better at all, then."

We all laughed.


	7. Chapter 7

**VII.**

I glanced straight ahead at him as he finished toweling off and got an eyeful, then looked quickly away, biting my lip with my incisors. He'd followed my gaze.

"Still? _Still?"_ he chuckled.

"No, I was just… thinking about some logistical issues I'm having. Fangs and…" I made a face and felt that infernal stirring. "Oh, never mind," I said with a pissed off growl to myself. "_Still!_ Geez Louise!"

He started roaring with laughter. He tossed the wet towel over my head and rubbed it playfully, then used it to pull me to him as he bent down.

"It's an issue of _timing_."

Yeah, and the opportunity to examine the timing thing was presenting itself all over again, or so it seemed. He kissed me and I moaned.

"Not _helping_…" I gasped, scrunching my eyes closed as if that conveyed the power to block out my thoughts, feelings and desires. _Self-control. No sharp objects. Self. Control._ It was my mantra.

"Mrs. Northman?"

I chewed my lip and unscrunched my face.

"Mmmm?"

"I neither want or need you to be all _that_ controlled with me."

"And I'm trying to take in just how bad an influence that makes you, Eric."

He picked up and guided my hand and said with a randy smile,

"You thought you'd get away with only an hour? Lover, you can practice all you want."

"Okay, I am totally not biting you there, are we clear? That's my whole problem. You are not going to tell me that it wouldn't hurt like hell.."

"Sookie, just.. relax." He started chuckling at the whole thing.

**

* * *

**

"Maybe 3 am, if I really plow through everything as quickly as I can?" he said with an amused tone, after the forty minute delay to his evening.

He dressed while I showered. He came in while I was toweling off and said, reading from his phone,

"I have just received an irate text message from Amelia instructing me to tell you that 'if you ever want to speak with her again, that you had better get your butt over to her house and take a look at the dismal state of your shared business and explain yourself.' She also notes that she has plenty of True Blood on hand, so there's no reason to worry about getting hungry. Bronwyn has added a P.S. saying that you have to read her a bedtime story and that she wants you to play 'tea party with walruses'. I think it's walruses... the spelling is highly questionable. I'll spare you the email from Nan until later. Maybe about a minute before dawn, so you don't get all worked up about it. I'll give you the short version so you can start preparing yourself, though. It involves a hate crimes and murder trial. _Yours._ You're still into civil rights and being exploited by the AVL, right? Ah, yes... You'll be fine with it right before dawn, then. The best time to hear such information. And.. have you called Ahmed? He's been pretty worried about you. He kept hoping you'd contact him. He and Alla have both kept in touch. And I don't even want to get into Jason. You're going to spend quite a bit of time explaining things to Jason, Lover."

"Explaining?"

He sighed. "That I am not a careless bastard? He was, of course, upset. But then he was angry that I 'lost' you. As if this was very careless on my part. I have failed to keep you safe from harm in multiple ways in Jason's eyes. There was little I could say to argue with him on that point. Actually, I would have to say that several people are most definitely not my fan because of your disappearing act. I even received a condolence letter from Bert's mother that scorched my fingertips as I read it and which could only be read _while being held_." He paused as if thinking about something. "You should take Cadel with you to Amelia's. He'll like to see Bert. I'll tell Toussaint to watch Hunter. Maybe we'll stick to that for a while."

I felt a little puzzled by that one. As I combed my hair I said,

"But Hunter and Cadel really get along so well. Why? Toussaint's guarded me for years."

"I feel more comfortable having Cadel stay with you at present. Besides, he's really missed you." He kissed the top of my head and said, "Come see me before you go out?"

I looked at him. Black polo shirt and jeans tonight. Casual. I was aware of every muscle rippling beneath his clothes and felt even further internal stirring just looking at him. _Still._ After almost two hours in total since susnet. Okay, I guessed he trusted Cadel more with me. And I knew if I got all freaky and inappropriate because of no access to a switchblade, Cadel would make jokes about it and get me to cut it out. He thought of me like a sister. I looked like his sister, for gosh sakes. _Good plan_. I nodded to Eric without any further questions to his infinite wisdom on the matter. And he seemed to know exactly where my thoughts were.

"Sookie, I trust you. It's mostly just that Cadel is better at making you laugh and be yourself. I want you around people that make you happy. Cadel and Pam are both good at that. But it's true that Cadel is… safer, without question."

I nodded again and he went to go check his email.

He came back in to check on me as I was dressing, before leaving the room to go down to his office. He walked over to me, and put a fourth bottle of warm True Blood down on the dresser for me. He stood next to me and combed his fingers through my hair, looking at me with a touch of concern. He stroked my bare shoulder as he kissed my temple. I had just typed out an as yet unsent message to Ahmed on my phone, which I had been charging on the dresser. He glanced at the message, which was full of apology for worrying him, for being out of touch. I was having a hard time deciding what else to write.

"You'll be okay, yes? If you need more time before going back to everything, you should take it, Sookie. You don't have to tell everyone you're back right away. And if you don't feel up to seeing Amelia yet, she _will_ understand."

"I'm… doing okay. I should go, Eric. I won't stay long. Just to catch up. I can see Bronwyn and see how much she's grown. Plus, I need to apologize and see what's going on with the business. I really left her in the lurch. I really should go."

"Okay," he said softly as he bent to kiss me again. He smiled at me as he gently held my chin in his hand. "Start thinking about an expansion of your list. More time with Hunter and Bronwyn. Jason. And friends. You have so many friends, Sookie."

My eyes teared up and I nodded. Hunter. Jason. Pam, Cadel, Jamie and Peggy and their twins, and Amelia and Bert and Bronwyn and even Branwen. Ahmed and Nicu. Alla and Mercan and Sasha, who was ten now. Sam and his wife. Bill. Rasul, even Dani was really a friend now. I had so many people I loved. Even Mathilde, Mattias, Beatrix, Anaïs and Chloë could be counted as reasons to be happy to be here. I had many reasons to try to be happy.

He hugged me again then left to go downstairs.

I saved the draft of my message to Ahmed and sat at my desk just thinking for a moment. I checked my email, ignoring my Sookie Northman account, which in the end had over two thousand emails that were going to require my filtering them into folders just even to get a sense of things. I was sure going through that account would take the better part of a week. Instead, I checked my Solsken Sookie account and found a reply from Yves telling me that my apartment was just fine. I also had an email from Anaïs that was really a message from Mattias, telling me he'd found a book that I'd been interested in. I tinkered around for a bit online, then wrote a quick reply to Anaïs and then looked at the time. It was already half-past 7 pm. I was stalling, worrying about seeing Bronwyn and getting hungry. Well, I had to get a move on or it would be past her bedtime. I heated a fifth bottle, just to be on the safe side.

As I drank, and dressed, I sent a text message to Cadel but he'd already heard from Eric that I was going out. He replied with jokes about wearing fireproof clothes because Bronwyn had been 'mischievous' recently.

After rereading my message several times, I sent it to Ahmed. Less than two minutes passed and he called me back, I heard sounds as if he was in a restaurant and then street sounds as he walked outside. The relief, and the happiness in his voice made me cry. We chatted briefly, since he was out for dinner with friends, and he said he'd call me back some time after midnight.

I went downstairs to the kitchen to tell Ruben that we needed more True Blood upstairs. He asked me if I wanted a donor and started to show me a list with blood types and I cringed and shook my head and said no thanks. I briefly chatted with him about how he was doing and headed back upstairs to Eric's office. On the way up, I ran into Cadel, who was headed down to the garage. He was looking chipper in his scally cap. He announced he was going to drive the Maserati. He spoke with a thick Welsh accent and grinned so broadly with his fangs partly down and dimples looking like craters. I told him I was seriously thinking about flying to Amelia's house and having him meet me there. He promptly replied that it was all too clear that it was _Pam's_ blood that had turned me no matter _whose_ voice I could hear in my head. He was taking suggestions for music and was intrigued by my choice of The Raconteurs. Or maybe he was taken aback. They were so 'old' according to Cadel. A rather odd statement coming from a man almost four hundred years old. I told him I'd be back in five minutes and that I seriously hoped he'd reconsider and drive my car. I got called a killjoy for the first time of the night. I was sure he was still going to have the Maserati ready, in spite of all my protests.

Outside the door to Eric's office, Andor was leaning against the wall. He nodded to me and glanced away with a sour look on his face. I paused before entering and looked up at him. After a moment, with something of a grimace on his face, he looked down at me.

"Ja?" he said sullenly.

"I wanted to say that I apologize to you, too. And that…" I looked down and my eyes kind of smarted with tears. I looked up and met his ice blue eyes, then leaned forward and rested my head against his chest. "Thank you, Andor. Thank you for always taking care of him. I am so grateful to you."

He seemed rather stunned and didn't reply at first. Finally he put his hand on my shoulder and pushed me away from him slightly and looked down at me. In spite of all our arguments and the fact that like Eric said, he didn't understand me, or us, at all, I just... loved him. Because he loved Eric.

"You should be grateful to _Eric_. And to Pam."

"I am, Andor," I said softly. "But also to you. I don't want to fight with you. I don't want you to be angry with me. It hurts Eric to see us fight. I just want you to stop trying to put me in some box that you think I should fit into, when clearly I _don't_ fit. I've never fit much of anywhere, but I fit here better than any place else. And Eric seems to think I fit _him_. So… please let's not argue?"

He seemed to search my face and then nodded curtly. I pulled away and put my hand near the door to knock but stopped and said,

"Where's Markus? I haven't see him? Where is he?"

"I have released Markus. Whatever you did that night, you fixed something in him. He is more independent and has clearer thoughts. He started talking back. He told me off for being happy you were turned. He told me I'm too old-fashioned and that I ought to give people more space and let them have opinions. He told Pam off for being sarcastic with him. Then he told Eric that he was too happy being autocratic. So I released him, though he wishes to stay here. He is in Europe for another few weeks. _Vacationing_." He said this last part with a smile and then started laughing. "You really had to have seen him in the first month after you left. Eric actually told him to shut up on several occasions. Whatever you fixed it is of questionable benefit. He is almost like a second Cadel now. Everything is to be questioned or a point for humor. He is almost unrecognizable, except for his loyalty. He will be glad of your return."

"You don't really seem all that troubled by the turn of events…"

Andor smiled an amused though rather faint smile. Then the smile faded and he looked at me more seriously.

"Eric said you did not tell us that Ocella had a child there."

"A teenager. About the same age as…" I still cringed to think of it… "Hunter was, when he came to live with us. A child, at least in these times. Or to me, in any time. Maybe three years younger than you were?"

He looked down at me from his towering height with an odd expression on his face.

"Weren't you afraid? To go there, to be with him alone in his residence, with the plan you had? I know that Eric calls you his little shieldmaiden, but were you not afraid of him, Sookie?"

I hesitated as I felt the cool metal of the doorknob on my palm and met his icy blue eyes.

"I wasn't as afraid of him as I was of what he planned to do to you and Eric when he decided he wanted to find you, Andor. Trust me on that. Not even close."

I knocked briskly and entered, as I'd been instructed since we'd first married, leaving Andor in the doorway behind me, and my mind registering the shockwave of my words on him.

Eric was standing with Stefan, who smiled broadly at me. There was a mountain of paperwork on his desk, along with some building plans spread out over the tabletop. Two Weres I didn't know appeared to be talking about the design plans for some building in Area 2. Dani was on video conference through the computer. He looked busy and slightly distracted as I told him I'd be back by about 1 am and planned to spend time talking with Pam in her office when I returned. I reminded him that my cell phone was still charging upstairs and that he'd have to reach me on Cadel's phone or at Amelia's house. Dani said a very friendly hello and called over Rasul, who looked very pleased to see me as well. I quickly said I'd be in touch and excused myself, saying I was sure they needed to stay on schedule.

I was wearing a bright red V-necked sweater and black denims. It was the first time I had worn a bright color in almost a year. The leather choker and talisman from Mathilde was still around my throat, the turquoise standing out against the vivid red. Eric nodded and smiled, casting his eyes over me pleasantly, but seemed distracted by the plans on the table. Already so busy for the night… I turned and was almost at the door when he called after me.

_Sookie?_

_Hmmm?_ I said, turning back, my eyes looking questioningly at him.

_You look beautiful tonight._


	8. Coda

**Coda**

"But why would she do that?" asked Andor, looking rather shocked.

"She said it was something she was doing to help her control herself."

"She did it only the one time?"

"No," said Eric, quietly, shaking his head. "She told me that she had done it many times. Every night since she left, sometimes several times a night, and… You had to have seen it to believe it. She wasn't just slashing herself with the blade as if to give blood. She was stabbing herself, scoring into her flesh _deeply_, carving patterns. Like runes, even names she said. On her forearm, her thighs…"

Andor made a pained face.

"But why?" he reiterated.

Eric reached around on his desk and looked at a printout.

"I did some research on it. And I've already done the wrong thing. Because I got angry and made her promise not to do it anymore, which they say just has the potential to create more stress. But the list of reasons people do it is… well," he sighed, then read out loud "anger, feelings of loss of control, problems expressing emotions, history of sexual abuse, trauma… " He shook his head and put the paper back on his desk, looking bleak. He glanced over at Pam who was turned slightly away. It might as well be a catalog listing of Sookie's negative feelings, problems and experiences.

"Are you alright?" Stefan asked Pam softly, putting his arm around her.

Her blue eyes welled with tears. She shook her head.

"No. I am very distressed," she said, in a choked voice.

Stefan looked over at Eric and said,

"Did you tell Cadel?"

"Not yet. I'll tell him later. I can just imagine how he's going to take this little revelation."

"Hunter?" continued Stefan.

Eric stiffened.

"No. And we will _not_ tell Hunter. It would be very hard for him to deal with."

And very hard for him to see that things were not quite as okay as he had seen them to be when she returned. He didn't think that any of them, even Cadel, were aware that Hunter had known she would be turned. They knew only that he had seen her safe return. For Hunter to know that she had been doing such things to herself, for an entire year, _nightly_… He shuddered to imagine it. He had to protect Hunter from such things. Hunter and Sookie had still not even really talked about what he had known and his choices yet. They had just touched on it. No, Hunter had been through enough already.

Andor shifted uncomfortably where he stood. He hesitated and then finally said,

"I just don't understand how this can be the same person that has done the things that she has done. The person who killed Ocella or worked for the FBI or was always so… brave, so strong. How is it that she is doing these things to herself as if she hates herself?"

"Andor, you have never understood her so it's hardly a surprise that you still don't," said Eric in bitter tone. "She views what has happened to her as _losing herself_. It represents something that is fundamental to her. I cannot even begin to explain it. It goes back many years. But that is not my point in telling you three this. If you catch her doing this, just… be kind. Try to get her to stop, but _kindly_. No," and here he looked askance at Andor, "belittling or overreacting. No commenting on it in her presence or frankly, at all. Under any circumstances. I do not wish her to be made to feel any worse. This is my decree and all of you had better abide by it."

Pam looked up at him.

"You can't compel her at all? Not even a bit?"

Eric shook his head.

"I haven't even tried after that first night and it clearly wasn't working well even then. And now? She is so much stronger now than she was then, mentally. She is very frightened by not being in control of herself. She always has been. I am afraid that I would only make things worse. We need to be very focused on improving things."

"But…" Andor started to interject.

Eric just raised a hand and waved him into silence.

Stefan said soberly,

"So you are worried that she could seriously harm herself, I take it. That she is still so unhappy that she could do something more serious?"

Eric paused before responding.

"I honestly don't know. I do not want to think she would. I think she feels how much everyone wants her to be here, to be well, to be happy again. I think we just need to be careful not to make it worse."

Stefan nodded and then said softly.

"She _will_ get better, Eric. Keep Cadel with her. Cadel is very good for this, as I myself can vouch. Even if he is angry still with you and with Pam over the whole situation, he is very glad that she is here and that she will remain with us. Cadel will be helpful. He makes her happy, just as you do. As Hunter and Bronwyn and Pam do."

Eric just nodded. Hunter had seen her happy. He'd said it would take time. But time was a very long arrow. Unhappiness always seemed to make it stretch interminably.

"Runes?" asked Andor with puzzlement.

"She said her favorite is Mannaz." He looked at Pam. "It represents the soul. The individual." He shuddered and said, "She was carving it into her arm when I caught her."

Pam remained expressionless, but turned away from them, simply unable to take in any more of it. Stefan encircled her to comfort her, resting his cheek on her head.

Finally, Andor said quietly,

"I still do not understand why she went after Ocella. Why she would go so far, and take such a risk when she was so young? Still so fragile… And so unhappy as one of us. Why would she do such a thing? It was a crazy risk to take. She could have just told us where he was. Why did she do it herself?" He looked over at Eric as if he still couldn't believe she'd done it.

Pam wheeled around, breaking free from Stefan's embrace. Eyes gone wild and red, she snarled at him,

"Because she _loves_ us!"

[_4 (again, just for good measure)_]

After they'd left his office Eric picked up the printout of the email that Cadel had captured going out of her Solsken Sookie yahoo email account to someone named Anaïs. Clearly one of the Dutch witches in spite of the name. He read the quotation, which hadn't been there in her emails that Cadel had captured the day before, again. It was the slender sign of her striving for happiness. On this we will build, he thought to himself. On this we will build, my Sunshine.

---- ∞ ----

Ani,

Dank u voor het boek! Wij zullen spoedig praten. Ik mis u allen.

Omhelzingen,

Sookie

* * *

_The life you have led doesn't need to be the only life you have._ ~ Anna Quindlen


	9. Author's Note

_**Cutting and Self-Injury**_

Cutting and self-injury is a very serious topic touched on in this story. People can't incur a lot of trauma without having some fallout. Sookie's character's dreams were her mind's way of dealing with her trauma and when those were removed, her mind sought some other outlet for her trauma and anger. Sookie's use of cutting in the story framed a serious and really awfully way that she regained control of herself, but it was not a subject that I could just toss off lightly. I've known people who cut and it's a very emotionally-laden topic. So I wanted to provide just a bit more information about cutting and self-injury in case any of my readers know someone who does it, or suspect that someone they know does it. (Many people who cut don't do it in an obvious place). There are a lot of resources out there on cutting. Here's just a smattering of information that fits the context of this story. But be assured it's a serious problem and requires a professional fix. Overriding the urge to self-injure once someone has embarked on that coping mechanism can be a lengthy process that requires a lot of support from loved ones and no small amount of _professional_ help.

The person who self-injures may not recognize the connection, but the behavior often occurs after an overwhelming or distressing experience and is a result of not having learned how to identify or express difficult feelings in a healthy way. Self-harm serves a function for the person who does it. If you can figure out what function the self-injury is serving then you can learn other ways to get those needs met which will reduce their desire to hurt themselves.

Many people who cut themselves feel that it's the only way they have to maintain control over their body because they can't control anything else in their life. They feel that self-injury can regulate strong emotions. It can put a person who is at a high level of physiological arousal back to a baseline state. Deliberate self-harm can _distract from emotional pain_ and stop feelings of numbness. Self-inflicted violence is a way to _express_ _things that cannot be put into words_ such as displaying anger. Self-injurious behavior can also make the person feel that they can _exert a sense of control over their body_ if they feel powerless in other areas of their life. Self punishment or self-hate may be involved. Some people who self-injure have a childhood and adult _history of physical, sexual and emotional abuse, and/or post-traumatic stress disorder_. Self-injury can also be a _self-soothing behavior_ for someone who does not have other means to calm intense emotions. They lack the necessary skills to express strong emotions in a healthy way. Sometimes there is a limited social support network and the person feels isolated and that cutting is the only means they have of controlling their own behavior and dealing with their unhappiness with other areas of their lives. And sometimes family may not know that their loved one is doing this. The families of those who cut are usually shocked to find out that the person they love is harming themselves.

**Some helpful tips in dealing with someone who self-injures:**

Understand that self-harming behavior is an attempt to maintain a certain amount of control which, in and of itself, is a way of self-soothing.

Encourage talking through emotions and recognize the fact that it is hard to shift the pattern of wanting to self-injure. Be patient but firm in supporting healthier expression.

Encourage expressions of strong emotions, especially anger, in other ways and recognize that these emotions need a positive outlet.

Seek positive alternatives to cutting and self-injury with the person in a non-judgmental fashion.

Don't make judgmental comments– people who feel worthless and powerless are even more likely to self-injure. Oftentimes, people who cut feel deeply isolated and ashamed by the fact that they feel this is the only means they have to control their body or their emotions. Being judgmental doesn't get to the root of the problem- that their feelings need an outlet that is healthier.

Making the association between self-injury and particular feelings or emotions may be best left to a professional so you don't create more negativity.

Offer to help them find a therapist or support group.


End file.
